Australian R & R
by HeRonFan
Summary: Their relationship evolving by the day, Ron & Hermione go to Australia to rescue her parents.  They face the last demons and pressures that held them back.  Sequel to Hermione's Worst Nightmare
1. Recap

_**Australian R & R**_

**Sequel to Hermione's Worst Nightmare**

**Disclaimer:** JKRowling owns pretty much everything here in the way of characters, setting and back-story. Plot is mine. No financial profit intended, just personal.

**Summary:** Their relationship evolving by the day, Ron & Hermione go to Australia to rescue her parents. They face the last demons and pressures that held them back.

**A/N: Story arc: **

Hermione's Worst Nightmare (Ron and Hermione centered)

Loose Ends (General, Harry centered, Ron and Hermione slightly advanced)

Meet the Press (General, Harry centered, Ron and Hermione slightly advanced)

Australian R & R (Ron and Hermione centered)

**Reference is made to**: Hermione's Worst Nightmare (of course), Loose Ends, and Meet the Press. Helpful, but not necessary to understand this shipper fanfic. Back-story exposition given throughout.

Thanks and apologies to those who have been waiting patiently for this. I almost had it up when I was challenged in a "Nightmare" review to turn this into an M fic. So, I've tried. Hope I don't disappoint you. However, for me, it's all about the relationship. Yes, I'm a sap.

**Chapter 1: Recap**

Ron nervously watched Hermione insert the electronic card key into their hotel room door lock reader. He was fascinated by Muggle technology and couldn't help thinking his father, Arthur, would have enjoyed this little item. No doubt, he mused, Arthur would have enjoyed the whole experience in the Muggle world he was having with Hermione as his guide. It could very well be the only sort of thing to actually make him smile after the loss of his son Fred short weeks ago.

He frowned. "You don't have these at your home, do you? I don't remember seeing them anyway. I thought you used keys." He was surprised at how easily she knew the security system.

Hermione smiled. "No. Remember when I went to France with my parents?" She waited for confirmation before continuing. "Our hotel room in Paris had these. They are actually quite new, well to my _extensive_ knowledge of staying in hotels, anyway. Haven't run into two exactly the same yet though. They can be tricky the first try."

The green light illuminated. Hermione opened the door and Ron grabbed her discarded bag from the hall floor. Both their small carry-on bags were abnormally heavy for their size. The magical extension charm used on them had come in handy for leaving the airport as quickly as possible. Ron couldn't stand the noise and the masses of stressed people. All the funerals, memorial services and not to mention press conferences and ministry interrogations, had given him his full of crowds. This feeling had surprised him for two reasons. He was from a large family; having lots of people around was normal, or at least should have been. Then, considering the eight months of isolation in the tent, when they were desperate to make some sort of contact, a crowd would have been welcome. After almost a year on the run with Hermione and Harry, he was still readjusting to larger groups of people, but right now, he just wanted to rest, be alone with Hermione and get something to eat.

It had been three weeks since the already legendary Battle for Hogwarts, on May 2, 1998. He might have to actually read the next edition of _Hogwarts, A History_. Well, the stuff he was involved in, anyway and see what they got right. Sometimes it hit him that he had been part of something that future generations would learn about in school. For Ron though, it was real, tangible, lonely, dark, cold, frightening, defiant, and something to be truly proud of though he didn't think so while it was happening. In the moment of need, one just responded according to who you were. Neville Longbottom crossed his mind often. Seeing him when they had returned to Hogwarts as the leader of the resistance certainly proved why the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor. Once in a while he caught himself staring at Hermione in the midst of these thoughts. Very few people would know exactly everything that had happened to them. He was glad that the person he was standing next to was in on everything, understood it all.

Well, truth be told, she did not know everything _he_ went through. He kept one thing from her. A slight frown crossed his features when he thought of the night he destroyed the locket. He had lied to her and it bothered him. The way the locket had fought back humiliating him with his worst fears was not something he wanted to share with her. Sometimes, however, he wondered if he needed to share it with her. Head games, Voldemort was a master at those. Even in the interim between the wars, when he was dead, fear of him still influenced people greatly.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had taken their hunt for Horcruxes to the final hiding place, back where it had all started really—at school. The first of Lord Voldemort's links to immortality was a simple a diary. Secretly deposited by one of Voldemort's inner circle, Lucius Malfoy, into his sister Ginny's cauldron in Diagon Alley, the diary had an unwitting carrier into the school, and an unwitting accomplice in Ginny. It magically wrote to her and slowly gained her confidence, fully possessed her at times. Then it finally had her enter the Chamber of Secrets to slowly drained the life out of her. Her death would have let Voldemort take her life spirit into his own and give him a body again instead of a mere echo. But Ron and Harry had figured it out thanks to Hermione's research in the library. Hermione's research pointed to a Basilisk in the secret chamber below the school. Harry had fought the oversized ophidian, saved Ginny and destroyed that Horcrux.

That was really the start of the whole adventure that he, Harry and Hermione would embark upon though none of them truly knew it at the time. By their seventh year so much had changed. Their headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was dead, killed. Harry, knowing he was no longer safe at Hogwarts, could not go back until he faced the challenge ahead of him; the challenge Dumbledore had been preparing him for. He had to fulfill the prophecy and take on Voldemort himself. Dumbledore had armed him with enough knowledge to slowly put the pieces together that would help Harry defeat the Dark Lord. Ron and Hermione, having been with Harry from the start, could not let him go off alone in his hunt for the remaining Horcruxes; the vessels that contained fragmented parts of Voldemort's soul and anchored him to immortality and his ability to come back to life in the physical world.

Funny, Ron mused to himself: the whole time they were searching for Horcruxes, Harry himself didn't destroy any of the final four they had set out for. But he had, of course, done the ultimate; he defeated Lord Voldemort himself. This was a task that Ron knew he could not have done. The man terrified Ron to his core.

To go on this hunt, both Ron and Hermione had had to take precautions for their families' safety. Ron had transformed his ghoul to look slightly like him with symptoms of Spattergroit. Sick with such a contagion, no one expected Ron at Hogwarts for his seventh year so his absence would be explained.

Hermione had wiped her parents' memories of her and implanted the desire to leave England and get out of harm's way. She had them go to Australia and spread rumours that she had gone with them too. Believing them likely to be in Sydney, but not positive, they took a chance and booked Muggle airline flights to the famous city.

Harry had insisted on paying for the flights and accommodation, preparing to convert many galleons to British pounds and then to Australian dollars, including spending money while there. He would book no arguments after all they had given up for him this past year. "Besides," Harry had said to Hermione privately, "I think you two _need_ to get some things sorted out." Hermione had smiled awkwardly, not knowing what he was on about, but assumed he just meant they needed some time alone and away from the prying eyes of the wizarding world and Ron's mother. Then again, Harry was Ron's confidante. Maybe he knew something she didn't know.

Harry had been about to book an all inclusive style room for Ron and Hermione so they wouldn't have to worry about food while they were in Australia. Then the press conference happened and the new Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, insisted on paying as a thank you for all they had done to bring about peace. After all, he justified, the mission was not over.

A little awkwardly, they entered the hotel room only to discover it was a suite, and looked around pleased and impressed. It was very nice, spacious and clean. A bathroom was situated immediately adjacent the hallway door, followed by a small upright kitchenette. The long room was then partitioned into a sitting section with a pull out couch and coffee table opposite which sat a work desk and chair. Adjoining this was the bedroom section with two queen size beds, and balcony doors at the end of the room.

Hermione was relieved. Unsure what to expect, she was glad there would be an option for them with the two beds. Both she and Ron felt it would be an added extravagance to book two rooms. This was the first time they were sleeping in the same room together since they were on the run from Voldemort. Now, however, their relationship was different. They were a couple and although she wanted the next step for them, she wasn't sure when it should be and did not want to feel pressured into it.

Ron put her at ease immediately; putting his things down on one bed and hers on the other.

"Unless, you'd rather have the bed closer to the loo." He motioned to how he had allocated their belongings to the beds they would occupy. "It doesn't matter to me," he said slightly awkwardly. Finding the room a bit stuffy he moved to the balcony door and opened it before spying the air conditioning unit. He bent down to read its instructions and turned on the unit, wincing momentarily at the noise. Then he turned it off. The breeze did the job enough in May.

"Hmm? No, me neither," Hermione replied as she continued her own inspection of the room eyeing the coffee maker and then checking out the small stocked fridge provided. The pattern on the beds and curtains were of the sun, moon and stars on a navy blue background. Rather fitting she thought. The rest of the room was off white, neutral. "It feels weird doesn't it?"

Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly, wondering where this was going. "What?" he said as he looked up at her while closing the access panel to the machine. He continued moving about examining the room. _Yup, Dad would like this_. _Hell, I like this!_

"We've got this incredible gift of time together," she said as she walked over to join him where he had moved to open a closet door and then inspect the bathroom. "I feel sort of guilty. Like I should immediately look for my parents, instead of enjoying some holiday time as Harry was pushing us to do. I'm torn."

Sensing this was not a comment to dismiss lightly, he considered his answer. "Well, I've got the cloak with me. We _could_ work right away,locate them, make sure they aren't going anywhere on vacation or anything, and then just enjoy ourselves for a bit, you know—see the sights. Then you could remove the memory charm on your parents and we'll take it from there." Ron reassured her that he had been thinking about how they were going to find her parents too.

Hermione looked relieved and relaxed visibly. He sympathized with her and closed the gap between them to give her a hug. Then he released her and looked quite serious.

"Or..."

"Or what?"

"Listen, there's something I haven't told you. I didn't want to get your hopes up too soon. Now that Dad is back to work, I asked him to use his connections at the Ministry to help us locate your parents here. He got in touch with his counterpart in the Australian Ministry of Magic. They have put a location ticket into the Intergovernmental Department of Wizards and Muggles in Australia. So, if that works, we'll know where they are and we won't have to worry about finding them at least. So the search is already in progress, actually."

"When did you do this?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"During Harry's press conference. It seemed the logical thing. There were so many Ministry people there to watch the speech, so Dad put out a few feelers to former colleagues," he replied. "He took a chance before he was invited back to work."

"You thought of that—with everything going on in your family? Fred…You thought of me like that? Your dad didn't mind?" She was genuinely touched. Her family had not been hurt. They were out of harm's way, but Ron's family was mourning the loss of Ron's brother, Fred.

"Of course I was thinking of you." _I am constantly thinking of you. But if I told you that, you'd probably think I was a nutter or obsessive or something_. "You lost your whole family for this job. At least it was possible to get yours back together. That was a real big motivator you know—to see a family united. Look how many have suffered in all this. Dad was happy to do it. It made him feel useful, I think. It sort of gave us something positive to focus on. I gave him the hotel information and all—made him promise not to tell Mom it was only one room which, actually, wasn't too hard—so we'll know in the next two days I think. If not, well, we're on our own looking for them. Soooo, until then, we could just enjoy ourselves here—if you're comfortable with putting off the search for a wee bit?"

She squealed and her arms were around him so fast and he was pulled into the happiest of hugs that almost caused him to fall over. "You're wonderful, Ronald Weasley!" She giggled at her behaviour and Ron laughed at her too as he held her and righted himself despite her weight pulling down on his one side. They had had precious little to smile about this past year; it was nice to see the spark returning to her eyes.

He felt mesmerized by her eyes for a moment, shining at him with so much joy. He suddenly felt rejuvenated after the long flights. He had wished they could use a Portkey, but they weren't set up for inter-continental transport. The furthest they went from England was Northern France or Spain due to agreements with those countries. Setting up a Portkey in each country for long distance travel was a strenuous, red tape filled process. Apparition was encouraged for its simplicity, but both were not comfortable with having enough concentration for Apparating across the world without a mishap; not to mention that Apparition distances would be negated by large bodies of water. These points presented problems that Muggle technology could overcome. However, Ron's nerves on a plane had taken a lot of overcoming. Hermione held his hand during take off and told him Muggle stories to distract him during take off and landing especially.

"You realize you've been hanging out with me too much if you're that easily swayed from work," he teased.

"Complaining?"

"Not in the least." His hand came up to caress her cheek as he pulled her in closer for a sensuous kiss." When they parted, he shook his head slightly to clear it. He still had a hard time believing this beautiful girl in his arms was his reality now. "So, I was thinking," he continued, "I saw lots of brochures downstairs in the lobby for tours and stuff. Want to go book one and see what we can do? If we stick to that schedule, then we have the rest of today, tomorrow and the next day to ourselves. We have the addresses of some government departments and utility companies already, thanks to you, so we can just Apparate to them under the cloak if we don't get the info through Dad's connection. Quite a bit of legwork is already done and..." he supplied hopefully.

Hermione smiled up at him and nodded excitedly and cut him off. "Let's go!" she said as she grabbed her purse and a light jacket against the cool May temperatures. They had three days together for fun. She couldn't wait to get started.

oOo


	2. Relaxation

**Chapter 2: Relaxation**

That day they decided to tour the Opera House and then climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Hermione's discomfort with heights reared itself and Ron was keen to hold on to her and keep her steady whenever she faltered in her climbing.

"Thank God you're here with me for this," she commented nervously. As she said it she realized her was often that added measure of confidence and inspiration for her to go on with something that challenged her. His steady, non-pressuring support of her to take the Mare-Go Potion after the torture came to mind briefly. Ron had come back to her and Harry a stronger person. She had never felt him weak before, but there was new determination and motivation in him that she found very irresistible. "I've always wanted to do this, but have always been a little shy of the height thing."

_I'll always be here for you, __**if**__ you'll have me._ His thoughts turned wishful and sad for a second.

When they reached the top, Hermione held on to Ron's arm and the railing as she began to relax and enjoy the breeze and the view.

"It's breath-taking!"

"It is," he agreed, staring at her as well as the panoramic view. Somewhere in this beautiful moment together, his mind wondered how on earth this could be happening when not even a month ago they were sitting in a small room at Shell Cottage with Harry and Griphook plotting a break-in at Gringott's to go deep underground. Now he was standing as high off the ground as he ever had. Life moved in mysterious ways. He looked at the woman he was standing next to. He was sharing his life with her from the very depths of the earth to the heights. As long as it was only them to consider, life was turning out great. But, it couldn't be just about them, could it?

"It's like our whole life is stretched out ahead of us, and up here you could actually map it out with a clarity that isn't visible on the ground—infinite possibilities. Do you know what I mean?"

"Hmmm." He smiled at her, but she noticed that he had gone somewhere in his thoughts. He seemed quiet all of a sudden, and then he was back in the moment and pointing out a white touring riverboat below. They had their picture taken at the top and began their descent.

Gratefully planting their feet back on the ground after descending from their perch they took a Coffee-Cruise and laughed together as they ordered tea while seeing the sites from the riverboat that Ron had spied from the fabulous bridge. Careful not to spend too much money the first day, they chose this option instead of one of the many dinner cruises.

"Maybe I could Imperius the crew and get them to do a tour just for us," he suggested with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

"Ronald!" she admonished good naturedly.

"I was just joking. Confund them?" he teased as they exited the quay.

Hermione swatted him but laughed as she did it. He grabbed her hand lacing their fingers together and then turned it slightly so that it went behind her back. Looking around almost covertly, he guided Hermione behind a tree so they were hidden from the rest of the harbour.

"Ron, what are you...?"

Her words were cut off. His mouth connected with hers in a passionate kiss that coursed through her. She melted into it and succumbed to the control he had over her body, not just from his hands, but the sensations he could create inside her instantly. Holding her hand behind her back only served to increase the need in her to grab back, a need provocatively denied.

So often she had imagined romantic kisses with Ron, just wishing that he would actually want to kiss her. Thoughts of deeper kisses with him just about drove her mad so she tried not to go there in her mind. Trying did not always mean success she discovered in frustration. Then, any kind of kiss with him was denied outright after his departure from her and Harry in November. His return had brought the promise of the fantasized, distracting romantic agony back full force.

When Harry had woken her on Boxing Day, and told her Ron was back, she had walked towards him, wanting so much to just jump into his arms and hold him in relief that he was back safe and sound. She wanted so badly to just act out her day dreams, to hold him in such a way that there could be no denying on his part that this embrace meant so much more than friendship. In her dreams he would hold her so tightly, sink his face into her neck and whisper to her so that only she would be privy to how much he missed her, how much he needed to be with her above all else…_above all else_. His lips would find hers, connecting their hearts and minds. Harry's presence would disappear for them, all that would be present was love freely, openly given and received. She would tremble, unable and unwilling to hide anymore, to deny the feelings for him that consumed her days.

But doing that would make her look weak, submissive almost. She would be damned if he would make her show her weakness after what he had done. She had survived him. She could go on without him if forced. She was not weak and his leaving had proved it to her in a miserable, lonely way, but she could go on. He had forced her to realize it. So instead she let out the anger and hurt that she bottled up. Hurt that made her feel less of an independent, strong individual. He would not take that from her. Anything between them now would be on her terms and he would have to earn her trust back.

And now here she was being kissed by him, his tongue probing deeply inside her mouth, writhing with hers in a duet that, begun by him, was inviting her to join, to experience, to re-ignite a dream and turn it into reality. His body pressed against hers, pinning her to the tree, gently prohibiting her movements. The nerves in her breasts suddenly came alive as they pushed out against his chest, teasing him as if they had a mind, a desire, of their own. She could feel his desire pressing as their hips pushed against one another instinctively. She had to resist the urge to bring her leg up to wrap around his.

His right hand came up to hold her face, his thumb tracing a line down her throat. Down, down, she wanted more of that. But he halted at her collar bone and then the touch disappeared, leaving her wanting, craving and looking for it. Needing air, the kiss finally painfully ended. She opened her eyes and stared into his smouldering ones. These unexpected kisses, full of passion, eyes full of desire were an awakening to how much their relationship was changing. They were both changing now that they no longer had to hide their feelings.

Her breaths came shallow and fast. Wow, she thought as they parted, her heart beating so fast, her face flushed. Her teeth ached to clamp down on him. She bit her bottom lip instead, wanting more as she stared at him silently, her brown eyes darkening with lust. _Merlin, we're in public! What are we doing?_

He let go of her hand behind her back and took a step back to look at her, needing to distance himself. He hadn't meant for simple kiss to get that far out of hand, but her response to him was so instantaneous and complete, it managed to fluster him slightly and make him forget where they were. He had to separate them or he felt like he was going to drag her back to the hotel room. He had never felt this primal before. _Holy shit!_ "Uh, what do you think of ending arguments that way?" he panted. Distance…needed, but not wanted.

"Um...Fine. As long as I get the last word," she conditioned.

"Which would be...?"

"This." She reached for his shirt collar and grabbed it, pulled him to her and kissed him back, hard and full, careful this time not to let certain parts of their bodies mingle too closely together. When they parted she mused, "Don't forget who is going to win those arguments!" _I am going to be in control._

"Fair enough," he smirked. They stared at each other a moment and then hand in hand continued down the boardwalk, both slightly flushed and grateful for the breeze to get their minds and bodies more regulated. Tactfully, she searched her purse for their map and feigned increased interest as he readjusted his trousers a little. She was silently amused at the power she had over him. But, just as interesting to her was what he could do to her with his tongue, not to mention his thumb.

Consulting their map, they set out for the historic foundation of the city, the Rocks District, a veritable outdoor history museum. They ate a light supper at a sidewalk café, shopped a little and walked leisurely, hand in hand back to their hotel in the moonlight, stopping here and there to just enjoy the scenery and each other. If there was a care in the world, neither of them was aware of it.

oOo

**A/N:** A short, "fun" bridging chapter before an emotional whopper coming next. BTW, Boxing Day is the holiday on December 26th in Britain.

Kari, this tease is for you! Thanks for the challenge. More to come…obviously.


	3. Revelations

**Chapter 3: Revelations **

Arriving back in their hotel, they stopped by the lobby store and rented a movie.

"Hermione, don't they have movies on the TV here already? That channel that comes on every time you turn on the thing says you can pay per view. Doesn't that mean watch and pay?"

"Well, yes, but they won't have this one. It's a classic, An Affair to Remember."

"Hmmm. Looks old," he said as he examined the cassette box. "1957? Seriously? Muggles have made something better since then."

"Well, yes, but this is a classic. Romantic."

"Romance? Hermione, the hotel in Egypt had a dinosaur movie. Uh, Jurassic..something or other."

"Jurassic Park."

"Yeah, that's the one—no romance. Good murder mystery one too, an innocent bloke on the run for killing his wife, escaped from a bus transport to the prison…that was a good one too. No romance, well she was dead, just flashbacks."

She knew he was talking about The Fugitive, and she had to agree, she liked that one too. But a couple movie just felt right to her for tonight. "Ronallllld.

"Why do you always call me Ronald when you're not getting your way?"

"I call you Ronald plenty of other times," she countered and then laughed. "You're right; I do do that, don't I?"

"Uh-huh."

"Anyway, it's one of my favorites. I just wanted to share it with you," she said looking up at him sweetly. "I promise it's funny at the beginning especially. Very witty."

"Oh, alright," he said rolling his eyes.

Ron found the ice machine down the hallway from their room and filled up the ice bucket. Hermione insisted they get drinks from the vending machine beside it instead of from their fridge, claiming they were too expensive. They changed into their pyjamas and snuggled up together to watch the film on Hermione's bed.

"They dress pretty formal," he commented as the movie played.

"Yes, well they're on a cruise. You dress up for dinner when you're on a cruise. It makes the night more special if you put a little effort into it. But, I think they dressed more formally back then as well," she said.

Ron shifted position and hit the remote. The TV changed channels causing a snowy picture. Quickly grabbing the remote, he swore at it for its lack of instructions as he tried to figure out Muggle technology. Hermione sympathized and patiently explained the general idea of it.

"See? It's one remote, but it controls both TV and VCR. There's a switch here at the top to go between the two. If you think this is difficult, wait 'til you try a computer!"

"I have," he said with annoyance, "Downstairs in the lobby when you went to the ladies room. As long as it's touch screen, is that the word for it, I'm okay. It takes me forever to type stuff in though. How come you're so fast?" Getting the TV picture back, he placed the remote on the night stand between the beds this time.

"Muggle children are brought up around computers. It's part of our schooling. I think I learned how to keyboard fully when I was in Grade 3, although I already knew where all the letters were on the keyboard. Once you learn, you never forget. It's kind of like riding a bicycle."

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"You're kidding, right? You've never ridden a bike before?" She sat up, looking at him.

"Did you see any at the Burrow?"

"Well, I…Wow! I never thought of that. Do you want to learn? You can rent bikes in a lot of places and tour by yourself."

The idea intrigued him a little, but then the thought of embarrassing himself in front of her and having her outperform him yet again pushed him against the idea. He knew it was silly, but he still wanted her to look at him the way she did when he had spoken Parseltongue to open the Chamber of Secrets. The glow in her eyes for him had not diminished yet and he wanted to keep it that way as long as he could.

Her demeanour towards him now was soft and cheerful most of the time. She always wanted to hold hands, or have an arm around him. It was so different and yet it was not smothering, possessive, or attention seeking, the way it felt when he dated Lavender Brown. He liked it. He was enjoying this side of Hermione even if it was so different from their usual bickering matches. Conversation with her was anticipated and enjoyable. Harry's presence was not necessary to mediate an argument. Those days were over. They still had differences of opinion, but how they expressed it was changing and more accepting of the other's point of view.

"Maybe another time, when we're back home," he said.

"Are you sure? George or Ginny will tease you if you fall. Everyone does the first time you know. Here, it's just me, and you can remind me of how awful I was when I first learned to fly a broomstick if I laugh at you! Deal?"

"Deal. But, only if we happen to come across some bikes. Let's not go looking for ways to embarrass me, Okay?"

"Okay. You know, I think you'll do well. You can balance yourself on a broom no problem. I think it will transfer to a bike easily. Unlike me, I'm just not comfortable with being off the ground. I think you'll pick it up way quicker than I did," she encouraged. She smiled up at him and they leaned in to each other for a long, romantic kiss. Her hand on his chest, she enjoyed the feel of him as her fingertips gently pressed against him when she leaned upwards towards those beckoning lips. She felt his fingers run through her long hair and marvelled at the way he made her feel both wanted and protected at the same time.

She laid her head back down on his chest. Very tired, she snuggled into him again watching but not really taking in the movie. It had been a long day. They had left Heathrow at 10pm on Sunday, May 24th, and arrived Tuesday just after six in the morning. The twenty three hour flight included a change of planes in Bangkok before arriving in Sydney. They both had taken sleeping draughts on the last plane to deepen their sleep so they could enjoy the day. Still, it was beginning to catch up with them.

She sighed. "Do you remember the last time we were alone in a bed together?" she asked softly.

"Uh-huh."

"All those nightmares."

He nodded. Ron felt a shiver run through her and he held her tighter. Shared memories flooded both of them. The day after she suffered the torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange, Hermione had nightmares about the horrific experience that would not let her sleep. Luna and Fleur had made the Mare-Go potion to induce every nightmare she had ever had in one night and purge the terrors from her system. Either Ron or Harry, or both, had to stay with her in case she said something that the others should not hear. Ron had insisted that it be him and Harry didn't argue, knowing how Ron felt about her. It was the night from hell for her, and then it was over and she was at peace. During the long cleansing process some nightmares required a little coming to terms with what he was hearing escape her. She was helpless to stop the words. It had resulted in their first kiss, some additional confessions and also the sad realization that they would not have a future together if they were not focussed on the mission they had to complete. They would put their feelings aside for the sake of keeping Harry from being distracted and hoping for a true future together.

"It wasn't all nightmares, as I recall," he said trying to swing her thoughts to the more pleasant parts of that night in between the dreams. He massaged lazy comforting circles on her back.

She lifted her head and shifted around to see him. He was looking at her with the most tender expression on his face.

"No, it wasn't." She sighed as the happy memory. "You said you loved me. You took care of me. You got me through the most horrible two nights of my life. You saved me from her, and then from myself." She gazed at him with open affection and admiration.

"Do you really think of it that way?"

"Yes. I would not have taken that potion if you had not stayed with me. I was terrified of going through that again in my mind. I don't know how long it would have lasted if it weren't for you."

He reached over and caressed her cheek. "The night we were captured was worse for me. I felt completely powerless to help you." The fear he had felt listening to her screams at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange gripped his stomach again.

"But you did." She felt him tense up. "Maybe you should take the Mare-Go potion," she suggested with a wry smile.

"Hmmm. I'll save you the trouble. My worst nightmare would be you going through hell during the torture, then you chasing after me to come back the night I left you." A dark veil of shame covered his eyes a moment before he proceeded. "You ending up with _Viky_, the newspaper article of you and Harry before he fought the dragon even though I knew it was false, and you…hugging Harry every time we met up again. In general, you with everyone _but me_, one time, even Neville. Oh, and playing quidditch in the nude and a few spiders along the way."

"I rank above spiders, do I? That's pretty serious." She mulled over his list and laughed lightly at the last ones and then realized the significance of what he said about Harry. She had propped herself up on her elbow studying him.

"It bothered you that I hugged Harry?" she asked surprised.

Ron swore to himself. He had not wanted this conversation to start. His insecurities made him feel ashamed especially since he got the girl in the end.

"It doesn't matter now," he said defensively.

"Yes, it does. If I hurt you because of that, then I'm sorry. That was never the intent." She looked at him appraisingly. He would not look at her. This topic bothered him indeed. Was this what Harry was referring to, she wondered. His words echoed in her head. _I think you two need to get some things sorted out. _

"Ron," she said softly. "There's something more, isn't there?"

He pursed his lips and his ears began to turn red. "No, it's nothing," he lied. His eyes tried to focus back to the movie playing.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't believe you." It was a kinder way of saying she knew he was lying. But she also understood him enough to know he wouldn't open up to her if she was aggressive about it. Their relationship would be doomed if they couldn't talk openly about anything.

Ron's eyes searched the room, trying to avoid hers as he tried to figure out something to say to deflect the topic of conversation. She grabbed the remote and muted the TV before she reached out and turned his face to hers. "Talk to me, please. No matter what, I'm not going anywhere," she said softly.

He shifted position on the bed, then sat up and swung his long legs over the side, turning his back to her. He ran his fingers through his hair, inhaled and released a deep breath. Then he gripped the sides of the mattress and his arms straightened and locked in position. For one heartbreaking moment Hermione thought he was going to get up and leave, but then he began to tell her—everything.

"The night I destroyed the locket," he said nervously staring at the sand colored carpet between the two beds in the hotel room, "more happened...than just it screaming."

Hermione moved to sit next to him but still give him his space. She listened with concern, suddenly wide awake. She knew they hadn't told her everything. She shoved that smug thought aside and waited for him to continue.

"I'm sure you remember my bad moods whenever I wore the effing thing. It affected me worse than you and Harry for some reason. I guess it felt a weakness and exploited it." He swallowed uncomfortably. "It went after everything I have ever been insecure about. It brought those feelings to the surface every time I put it on, whether they were current or not. Then I'd take it off and my head would be okay, but the feelings it was putting into me—it was like a torture, psychological torture, but they were blown out of proportion. It made me angry, irritable. Every time I wore it, I got the feeling of being the unwelcome third wheel; that I was horning in on something…_private _between you and Harry." The adjective came out through gritted teeth. His right hand had released the mattress and was now stabbing it with his middle finger as he searched for the words that would ultimately humiliate him again.

Hermione inhaled in shock, was about to deny this, but then felt she should let him go on uninterrupted. He was finally talking. Now was the time to let him speak and she would listen to him. He opened up to her and told his story, and she began to feel like her own heart was being stabbed as he explained.

"It played me—mental games, constantly. My position in the family, the 6th boy. What would be so special about me? Look at my brothers and all they've accomplished, their ability to know where they were going with their lives even before they left school. There's Bill, head boy, a good job at Gringott's. Charlie, star Quidditch player and then a brave dragon tamer. Percy, another head boy, bit of a git but still, he had it together. Fred and George made a name for themselves wherever they went with their jokes and business. What could I do that would say "Here I am world, Ron Weasley, good at…." He took a deep breath and continued. "There was nothing that could finish this sentence. I let down my parents from the moment I was born, being a boy. It was no coincidence that my parents stopped having more kids once Ginny, the longed for daughter, came along."

"Then Harry comes into the picture, the hero, the Boy Who Lived then the Chosen One. I'm not saying that I don't like Harry or anything. It's just, here I was, the unwanted number six and I end up with a friend who is not only famous, but whom my parents begin to consider their son, too!"

"Yes, I was jealous of Harry. God knows why! I don't understand it all myself. I know he's had a horrible life in the Muggle world. He's never had parents who cared about him. He had fame, fortune, the looks, I guess. I got over that jealousy during the Triwizard Tournament, but the feelings came back when I wore the locket and they were so strong. Stronger than the original ones," Ron said shaking his head.

"Then, there was you." He chanced a small glance at her and looked back to the floor which seemed safer somehow. Tears were forming in her eyes. He knew there would be, and he was causing it.

Why go on with this? He was just hurting her too. If he stopped, it wouldn't hurt her and what he was about to say would affect her more than anything. But, he had come this far, he thought. Pretty hard to turn back now and say forget it. She would never let it go. She was very dogmatic that way.

"You were right about me, about what you said to me after the Yule Ball. I should have asked you, in a real way. Too damn afraid though. I did care already about you. You were right, but I wasn't ready to give up being…I don't know, friends? A kid? It scared me a little, well actually, a lot. And, if I had to …compete, with Harry for you then I knew I would lose. Who could compete for a girl against the Boy Who Lived? It also meant losing _both_ my best friends possibly if we changed the relationship. I didn't want to lose that. I needed that friendship. So it was just easier to leave well enough alone. Try and ignore it. Some days were harder than others though; whenever I saw you hug him. You never hugged me that way. I figured there must be something more there." He swallowed uncomfortably.

"Sooo, these were all the feelings that the locket used against me every time I put it on. Even if I had worked through them, and got over them, it didn't seem to matter. They came back full force, and then some. Then when Harry opened it, the locket fought back, hoping I would collapse or something I guess and not hurt it. It did what it could to stop me from destroying it. It portrayed a visual of the worst fears I had." He paused a moment, taking a breath to steady himself. "I knew I _really_ cared about you by that point, the time away from you made that crystal clear. There I was, finally back and it was possible to see you but, the first vision of you I saw was Voldemort's projection coming out of the locket. You and Harry—making snide remarks about everything that bothered me—every damn thing coming out of my two best friends' mouths. And then," he took a deep breath again, "you were kissing."

His hands gripped the side of the mattress more firmly, his knuckles turning white as he relived the memory. His voice hoarse, he continued with the most difficult part. "Your hands—were on him, all over him, as if I wasn't even there." Tears dripped down his cheeks now, and he finally looked at her. Hermione was crying silently too, shaking her head negatively, wanting to reach out to him, but didn't want to stop him from getting it all out.

"I stabbed the damn thing, finally breaking free of its hold on me. Then I damn near collapsed, and sobbed like an idiot. Couldn't bring myself to even look at Harry after what he'd just seen. I think after that Harry understood why I'd been such a git though. That's why he forgave me so quickly. Well, saving his life probably helped." He shook his head. He felt utterly humiliated. "I was never going to tell you any of this. What good could come of it?" He sniffled and continued to stare at his feet, unable to look at her.

Hermione reached out and put her hand on his knee and moved to kneel in front of him between the two beds of their hotel room. She tilted his face to see hers, tears running freely down her cheeks and off her nose. "Us," she said softly. She gently put her arms around his neck and pulled him to her for a hug. He slid off the bed and they held on to each other on the floor in the tiny space between the beds.

oOo

A/N: More to come for this conversation. Don't worry. It felt very weird to write about a VCR, but there weren't even DVD players in 1998. Time and technology flies!


	4. Reciprocation

**Chapter 4: Reciprocation**

oOo

_Echo_

"_I was never going to tell you any of this. What good could come of it?"_

"_Us."_

oOo

They sat awkwardly on the floor between the two beds; holding on to each other. They offered strength, comfort, understanding and another part of themselves that had been hidden and protected. From what, both wondered. Why are we holding back when in my arms is the one person I want to be completely myself with, good and bad, happy and sad. To be able to speak freely and not fear disappointing the other but have acceptance, understanding, guidance, and unconditional love. Stages, it comes in stages. A true quest for love comes with learned knowledge, shared memories and acceptance of each other's traits.

She tilted her head back to look at him directly, daring his eyes to look away. He didn't. She wanted him to feel that just because she now knew his worst fears she didn't think less of him. He knew hers after the nightmares. There was vulnerability there; he had not exploited it in any way. In fact he had protected her fears, even from Harry when necessary.

After a moment she whispered to him, "It was always you. It was always you."

His head pulled back a little as if studying her to decide whether he should believe her or not. Why didn't he see in himself what she saw? She could not be his self-confidence. He would have to find that within himself and trust his own worthiness.

Ron stared at her. Her words echoed in his head. Words that erased his last bits of self doubt that had creeped up into him again while reliving his fears. He believed her. She may feel negatively when she heard his decision, but he would deal with that when the time came. Right now, he needed his questions answered from her. Her face and eyes were pink and puffy and wet, her lips swollen with the effort not to cry more and in that moment, he thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

"I love you," he said simply and sincerely. "The thought of losing you tears me apart."

He had learned so quickly not to show true feelings around his brothers and even his sister, or the teasing would be endless. He had put his heart on his sleeve and she did not betray that trust in any way. After the torture and the night of the induced nightmares he had told Hermione how he felt about her. Perhaps it was because he was so scared he might never get the chance to again. He did love her, but it was hard to believe that that love had grown so much more since those first two nights at Shell Cottage.

"I love you," Hermione said looking deeply into his eyes and never letting that contact break. She leaned into him and they kissed with a depth of emotion and understanding they had never come close to feeling before. It was as if their hearts were beating in unison. They remained in each other's arms for a time and just held each other. Hermione rested her head in the crook of his neck. The TV screen continued to dance in silence in their peripheral vision but none of it registered. After a time, she thought she should address some of his nightmares.

"It was easy to hug Harry, you know, compared to you that is." She felt him stiffen at this. She looked up at him reassuringly, shaking her head. "I didn't have feelings for him the way I did for you—even if it wasn't love yet. Sometimes, I thought I imagined them. I kept wondering how I could feel for someone who annoyed the hell out of me? It was just...well, if I hugged you, you might find out there was more to it than just friendship." She lay her head back down on his shoulder. "I hugged Harry so much because I was always afraid he was going to die. When he was going to battle the dragon, you two weren't speaking at all, so he'd lost that support.

"You had to bring that up," he said rolling his eyes.

"Only to illustrate why I was so close to him during that time." She tilted her head to face him. "He was all alone. I thought it was a very real possibility he could die. The other champions were three years older and had that much more experience and education which put him at an extreme disadvantage—not to mention being Muggle-raised—if you can call it that—so he was never exposed to magic growing up the way they were."

"I'll bet if you think of it, the other times have been when we've either been in danger and one of us could have been killed or were really relieved that one of us was safe. Then there would have been getting him back from Privet Drive. Ever since you told me about those bars on his windows and starving him at times. It was just always such a relief to see him okay."

"I do love Harry. Just not the same way I love you. He is like a brother to me. We have some things in common that I don't with you that connects us, you know. We are both outsiders to the magical world. Both of us were raised in complete ignorance of it. Then he was set apart by a fame he didn't feel he deserved. I, well, I ended up setting myself apart by tryng to fit in too hard. Believe me, I'm well aware I'm practically the only one to read _Hogwarts, A History_." He nodded his agreement. She continued mildly annoyed at his quick accord.

"As for Viktor, well that was so long ago and most of the time when I was with him," she shrugged her shoulders sheepishly, "I was wishing he was you. Well, until you said those things at the Yule Ball, then I was mad at you. Then I figured I didn't matter to you that way, and at that point you made me think that I never would, so I kept seeing him. But, I still wished it was you who would turn up at the library and say hi. For some reason I always watched for you, knowing full-well that you would never turn up. I had some silly fantasy that you come in and tell Victor to stay away from your friend and that you would discover you cared."

"Fantasy?" he said his eyebrows climbing to his hairline immediately. "What happened after that?"

"Nothing really, it sort of ended with you sitting down at the table across from me. We were fourteen, Ron. I was only just starting to like you more seriously, really."

"Hmph," he said, disappointed. "What other fantasies?"

"You're trying to deflect me, Ronald," she said, knowing what he was trying to do. "As I said, it was silly. I don't know how I would have reacted anyway at that point if you actually did come in. Regarding Neville, well that's one I never imagined even in my sleep as far as I know!"

"I was just making a point, Hermione."

"I know. Let me tell you something Ronald Weasley, and I say this only because I'm here with you, and your arms are around me and I know that you care about me. Almost from the beginning I've felt something for you. The moment you began throwing up slugs on my behalf…well, I thought you were something special. I found myself laughing more when I was with you and I liked that. Granted, I also found myself crying more over the years but, the wait was worth it. The point is that I am exactly where I have always wanted to be."

Ron looked at her intently and pulled her close, seeking out her lips. When they parted, Hermione almost breathlessly reminded him, "I love you."

He smiled at her, but an awkward expression crossed his face. Alarmed, Hermione questioned him, "What?"

"Um, my legs are numb. Mind if we kip back up on the bed?"

"Oh, yeah. This is sort of cramped, isn't it?" she smiled.

They got to their feet, but Ron's legs buckled beneath him as he stood up. He fell on to the bed taking Hermione with him, laughing all the way.

"You're some man I've got!"

"What?" he said defensively.

"Well, you can overcome Voldemort's defensive dark magic, but you can barely stand up!"

"I just wanted to get you back into bed!" he grinned. He was joking, but still, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help thinking about making love to Hermione. The past was cleared up for him, but what if she didn't agree with his choices for his future. What if, when she found out, she could not bring herself to be with him? To finally be with her and then have it yanked away—he wasn't sure he would be able to handle that. Best not to go there, he thought.

Hermione laughed and rested her head back down on his chest and wrapped her arms around him. _He didn't say onto, he said into. Oh, he's been thinking of it too. _She wanted him, she knew that. Every fiber in her body came alive when he looked at her a certain way.

He brushed an errant strand of hair out of her face. Her eyes moved to that hand that she craved, touch. Those moments when he caressed her could at once ignite a desire inside that she never knew could climb so high, so deep, so low. He had the power to throw her off center, destabilize and distract her all in such enticing ways. Did he know what he could do to her just by putting his hand on her low back, where it was moving now, tantalizingly close to her backside? His fingertips brushed the beginnings of curves behind her. Visions, imagined sensations, of both his hands running over her bottom, and pulling her to him, against him, or lifting her into him so that her legs wrapped around him demanding more, hiccuping her breathing, sending need from her very core throughout her body. Her thighs squeezing him at his waist, bringing her chest against his, her fingers running through his hair. Her tongue would seek entrance in his mouth, tracing the contours of his lips before flicking inside quickly, drawing him out for their tongues to tango before she let loose and sucked him inside hers so hard he could not escape the similarity to what she wanted below. God, did he know? She longed to lose her self-control with him, to lose the discipline that so ruled her life. She barely knew what she was capable of, but she was enjoying this new found knowledge of her body so much.

But discipline was what she needed now. This wasn't the right moment. It would feel like taking pity on him in some way because of what he had just revealed. No, when they did get to that point, it would be a conscious decision of what they wanted, nothing hanging over them, she thought.

She reached for his distracting hand, bringing it up in front of her. She opened his palm to her and kissed it. Their eyes locked on each other, speaking volumes without words. He reached for the sheets and covered them, enveloping them both together in a loving embrace. They fell asleep cradled in each other's protective embrace, the movie still playing.

oOo


	5. Rest

**Chapter 5: Rest**

A/N: Regarding my a/n in the last chapter, DVD players were not in hotel rooms. They were just too new. There were reasons why that particular movie was chosen. You'll find out in the next chapter. Thanks for the encouraging reviews. This being my first M-fic, I have been a little nervous. BTW, if you're wondering, number 7 will be "lucky" for Ron and Hermione in this fic. Yes, it is deliberate.

oOo

Ron woke an hour later. The VCR had just rewound and was making some sort of clicking noise as it reset itself. He stared at the machine a moment, annoyed. Looking about the room, he noticed they hadn't bothered to close the heavy outer curtains. Now that he was awake, the light filtering in through the sheers would bother him. Hermione was asleep beside him, her head resting on his arm for a pillow. He looked at her a moment.

_This is all a dream. Any minute I'm going to wake up and realize I've fallen asleep doing the night shift at the tent entrance. Harry will be hitting my shoulder to wake me up and take over. Hermione will treat me with a mild contempt bordering on actual tolerance. Speaking to her would generate a cold hard look. Or, he would wake to find himself sprawled on the chesterfield at Shell Cottage. His mind continued to slowly activate...Hogwarts, the battle, ...Hermione jumping into his arms and kissing him._

He stared at her, willing his brain to wake him because it would all be too cruel to endure being this happy that much longer only to have it taken from him. A deep breath in and she snuggled a little closer to him, the feel of her confirming the situation was real and not a dream. God, he didn't want to mess this up. But, what if when she knew she would change her mind and think less of him?

He reached for the remote, turned off the TV and figured he had better get into his own bed, now that he was aware of the situation. Everything between them had been so great while they were in Sydney. He didn't want to slip up and make her think he was taking advantage. He gently slipped his arm out from under her neck and began to get up to close the curtain and grudgingly change beds. The movement woke her suddenly and she reached for him quickly.

"Where are you going?" she asked urgently.

He looked back at her in the moonlight that filtered in through the sheers of their room.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I woke up, turned off the TV. I was going to close the curtains. Then—well—I, uh, figured I should get in my own bed since…"

She squeezed his hand. "You don't have to. Um, unless you want to, that is. It's nice, having you beside me. I like it." She could feel her face flush slightly and hoped he couldn't see it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She moved back over to give him more room.

He quickly closed the curtains and got under the covers with her, wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her soundly. Then he held her in front of him, as they lay together spoon fashion, breathing in the scent of her hair. He thought for a moment about the tone of her voice when she asked where he was going. Then he whispered to her.

"I wasn't leaving you. That night will _never_ happen again." He felt her shudder and begin to cry. He held her tighter and he sniffled himself at the long lasting effect that night had had on both of them; but especially her. He knew she had forgiven him, but the fear being abandoned was still there. Had his leaving her and Harry that night broken the trust beyond repair? Was there a greater price he had to pay over and above the locket's torture of him?

Hermione held on to his forearms with all her might. Relieved he was there and yet sad and shocked at her reaction. He was right. Ron was schrewd. He could read people. She had thought she was over his leaving. Deep down she was still afraid of being left again. When Ron came back to her and Harry after their separation she was so angry over what he had put her through. She had cried for him, thinking she might never see him again. She might die and their last words were awful, accusatory, and painful. The possibility of his being killed had entered her mind too and she had grieved at his loss, had even come close to hating Harry for his part in the fight. When he came back after Christmas, all the bottled up anger at the situation came out. It had been easier to stay angry than to face how deep her feelings for Ron had become and, how easily he could hurt her.

Her thoughts turned to their earlier conversation. She now knew what he went through to come back to them. The pain he experienced she had added to unknowingly. She had flailed on him for hurting her, and then spent weeks giving him icy stares and the cold shoulder.

She looked into herself in that moment realizing her own insecurities could keep them apart. Ron had gotten her out of Malfoy Manor, stayed with her through her nightmares, told her he loved her and now had flown half-way across the world for her on a Muggle airplane which frightened him, and he had bared his soul to her. She had no reason to be insecure here anymore.

A moment later, composed, she rolled over in his arms and searched out his lips in the semi-darkness. She kissed him, her lips quivering slightly. She could taste the tear that had run down his cheek and crossed his lips. She brought her hand up and her fingers gently wiped away remains of its track on his face, remembering when he had done the same to her before their first kiss, after her nightmare about him leaving her.

"I know that we will never hurt each other that way again. I will never shut down on you again the way I did when you came back. I promise you, and…I trust you."

Ron had started to wonder if he could handle a connection like this. Maybe he wasn't cut out for it at all. He had cried twice in the last four hours. What the hell was happening to him?

Then her words assuaged him completely. He could not see Hermione's features clearly, but it wasn't necessary. Her conviction was in her voice. She had forgiven him for hurting her. He did not take it lightly. He caressed her cheek and kissed her with such emotion that he thought his heart would burst. Yes, there was longing and lust, but more importantly at this moment there was love that surpassed all. The most important person in the world to him was in his arms and he would protect her with every ounce of his being. He would protect this relationship, no matter what came next. Would he forgo his decision for her? Yes, he probably would if she wanted him to. Life was too short. These past few months had taught him just how short it could be.

They slept the rest of the night peacefully, in each other's arms, legs entwined, or hands holding briefly. There was always contact in some way. Whenever one woke for a moment, they would touch the other with a light kiss either on the cheek or shoulder. Sometimes the other would wake and return the kiss, other times a contented smile would cross their features. Both had discovered new memories with each other that would generate a very strong Patronus charm.

oOo


	6. Recreation

**Chapter 6: Recreation**

The next day the pair visited the tourist desk in the lobby. There were so many brochures of things to see and do, not just out of Sydney, but Melbourne too. The Great Ocean Road Drive captured Ron's attention immediately. He enjoyed seeing the land formations that were distinct to the area. The information person mentioned it was impractical to do so out of Sydney for just a day trip. Ron caught Hermione's eye and patted his jacket pocket. Understanding immediately, she politely thanked the assistant and they grabbed a brochure with an address on it.

They moved to an adjacent hallway and Ron pulled the invisibility cloak from his pocket and draped it over them after Hermione committed the destination to memory. They apparated to a company which offered more personal tours over the bus tours. This was where they were going to splurge a little and have a tour guide to a group up to 10 people. They chose a "Shipwrecks and Wild Clifftops" tour and enjoyed their driver's stories of the area, and her ability to spot wild koala and kangaroo. She would stop for them to get out and appreciate the wildlife at their leisure. It was not peak season being late autumn; winter would officially begin in June here, the temperature cool enough for sweaters and good jackets.

They traveled the Otway Rainforest, saw the Twelve Apostles rock formations and stopped at Loch Ard Gorge listening to stories of the most tragic shipwreck that would name the gorge. Stopping for a walk along Kennett River, they found a koala sleeping in a tree. They enjoyed the breath taking sights and each other's company. After the last stressful year, it was an incredible release to just enjoy life again.

The trip took the full day and they returned to the hotel around 9:30pm, and decided to take a late night swim in the closed pool thanks to the invisibility cloak and a little magical break and enter.

"I never thought we would use the cloak for this," said Hermione as they snuck past security cameras.

Ron smiled but said nothing. His mind had gone to another way to use the cloak. He shook his head and thought the cool water would be a good idea right now. "I never thought you would break the pool rules and go in after closing."

"Yes,well, um," she was suddenly speechless with guilt.

He laughed. "Relax, Hermione. It's a swim, nothing more. We can apparate back to our room quickly if there's a problem..." His voice trailed off when he saw Hermione remove her bathing suit cover to reveal his girlfriend in a light he had only imagined so far. Reality was far greater than anything envisaged as his eyes took a walk over her body, clad in a one piece royal purple suit that accentuate curves in all the right places, revealing just enough cleavage to make his mouth water. _Must get in the water. Must get in the water._ Ron dropped his towel and took a running jump into the pool, doing a cannonball. The splash was enormous, enough to half drench Hermione who was about to climb in slowly by the ladder.

"Aaaahhh! Ron!" she yelped, her hair now half sopping wet. She turned to him with a playful scowl when he surfaced.

"Oh, sorry. Been a long time since I swam. Just had to do it," he said with mischievous grin. _If she only knew_.

oOo

The following day they stayed in Sydney and went to Taronga Zoo. Hermione continued her love affair with the koalas so Ron bought her a small stuffed one as a souvenir. They went back to their room to collapse and rest before going to a dinner show. Both fell asleep almost instantly after their busy two days. Tomorrow, they would search for her parents. This night would be their last night together alone.

Ron woke first and began moving about the room. He spied his suit hanging in the closet. _It makes the night more special if you put a little effort into it._ Her words echoed in his head. Shrugging slightly, he decided to ask if Hermione would be game for a special evening. He heard her stir.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he whispered to her as he approached. That one was an easy one to remember, he thought. Cinderella still sounded horrible to him even after hearing the tale during the plane ride.

She smiled, thinking that was a nice way to wake up. "Reservations are in about seventy-five minutes. Did you, um, bring anything really nice to go out in?" he asked tentatively.

Hermione returned his look and replied, "Actually, yes."

Suddenly, she was grateful Angelina Johnston had insisted on Hermione coming over to borrow a few clothes for the trip. She had only taken a limited selection with them in the beaded bag when they disapparated from the wedding. That clothing had gotten a bit worn and even frayed in places. Angie had come to Fred's funeral and they had gotten to talking afterwards and Hermione had told her they were planning on going to Australia to get her parents. When Angie heard Ron was going too, she had been adamant that Hermione take something really nice just in case.

"You'll want something to knock his socks off," she said. "And I have just the dress to do it."

"But.."

"No buts. Seriously, Hermione, if you want that boy to truly look at you as a woman and leave the idea of a school chum behind, then this dress will do it. Trust me. Oh, and shoes...what size are your feet?"

"Do you really think I need to dress as someone I'm not to get Ron? He's already said he loves me, I know I've got him," Hermione said.

"Who says you're not that someone? And, yes, you certainly do have him. I've never seen Ron more attentive to you, or protective. But, there's nothing wrong with making him sure he wants you in absolutely everyway either. This will make him the envy of every man when you walk into a room with him, looking like you can, if you want to."

The conversation churned in Hermione's head as she stared up into his eyes. A special night this could be indeed. She was ready. She was more than sure he was ready. Well, let's put that dress to the test.

Ron noticed the wheels turning behind her eyes. Where had she gone? "Hmmm. Did you want to wear it tonight? I brought a suit. Do you feel like an actual date?"

Her eyes lit up as a smile crossed her face, suddenly fully awake. Since the Battle for Hogwarts, Hermione and Harry had been staying at the Burrow. Harry had asked to stay there so he could see Ginny more, but gave Mrs. Weasley the excuse that while he began work on Number 12 Grimmauld Place, it was too dusty to live in. He discovered that he could get around the Permanent Sticking Charm on Mrs. Black's portrait only by removing the entire wall itself. But the place was a mess as he did this in many sections of the house, including Regulus' room. He planned on opening one room up for Kreacher to have so he could tend to the sickening portrait and other Black family portraits, the family tree tapestry, and the enshrined heads of past house elves as he wished. He had given Kreacher his freedom and his choice to keep living there if he so wished. The elf chose to do so when Harry had offered him all those Black family items that offered him comfort and stability in his newfound freedom. The elf continued to help with cooking in return for a place to stay.

Harry asked Ginny's opinion on decorating quite a bit, feigning complete ignorance and disinterest in the matter. His only goal was to rid the main rooms of the house of Slytherin and pure blood-related content he had told her. He asked her opinion on how to brighten it up and make it homier. Hermione noticed he had begun buying whatever Ginny liked and let her decorate the sitting room initially. When she and Ron set out for Australia, Ginny had already chosen new colors for the kitchen. Hermione had teased Harry that he wasn't too subtle.

Ron's knocking on Ginny's door to get Hermione to come out constituted their biggest foray into dating thus far. Privacy meant a walk in the orchard. There had been so much extra family about due to Fred's death, that even those few walks alone together had practically been stolen. These three days in Sydney were a tremendous change in circumstance for them. She was enjoying every minute she had with Ron before they had to get serious about looking for her parents.

Hermione mind came back to the present and this wonderful young man making her feel more special by the moment. "Really? That would be wonderful. But, I'm going to make you wait then. If I'm going to wear it, then I want to take a shower, do my hair. If this really is a date, then I want to do it right."

He smiled. "Okay. I'll shower first and get ready out here. Then you can have the bathroom all to yourself for as long as you need…which by the way, doesn't look like you should be that long to me," he said as his finger traced the curve of her jaw line, ending at her chin before leaning in to give her a quick peck.

"You're sweet. This sounds fun," she smiled up at him.

Ron smiled and then disappeared into the washroom, showered and dried his hair. _Do it right, she had said. Okay._ He started to walk out into the main room wearing only a white towel around his waist. Then he ducked back into the bathroom and put on a hotel bathrobe and exited. He wasn't quite sure why but he suddenly felt very self-conscious.

Before Ron had turned back to the bathroom, Hermione had caught a glimpse of him in one the room's mirrors which was on the wall opposite the unutilized bed. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows rose as her mouth opened. Her body gave an involuntary lurch forward as she craned her neck to see him turn back to the bathroom. She sat back, mildly disturbed at her reaction to him, but realistically, she was much more intrigued. She could feel her face flush and brought her hand up to cover her mouth and cheek as he came back in the room with the bathrobe on, hiding the wide shoulders she had just been admiring. He really had filled out in the last year. He wasn't Adonis; she didn't need him to be. But his body reflected that of a man's, no longer just the gangly legged boy he had been. His body had grown to match. Hadn't she just gone swimming with him the night before? _Why am I reacting like this now?_

"All yours," he said.

"Hmm? Yes, uh, thank you." Hermione stood up and grabbed her borrowed dress, accessories and cosmetics bag and walked quickly to the bathroom. Hanging her dress on the back of the door, she was relieved to have the division between them. It was getting more difficult to hide her desire and take this slowly. She stared at the floor a moment and then moved to start the shower. As she tested the temperature, she lowered it to a degree cooler than she normally liked and stepped in quickly.

As she began to put on a little makeup, Ron knocked on the door. "I'll be right back, okay? I'm just going to go down to the front desk and check for messages from Dad."

"Do you want me to hurry up and go with you?" she called back.

"No. Take your time. I'll be right back," he replied.

"Okay." That was odd, she thought. He could have just picked up the phone and dialled down for messages. I guess he's not that comfortable with Muggle technology yet, she thought. She finished her makeup hoping he would appreciate this extra effort on her behalf, and then swept most of her hair up in a chic pony tail turned in and up through itself, protruding in a spray of hair coming out the top like a waterfall; the front strands softly framed her face in wisps of hair. Pleased with the result, she reached for her dress. _Well Angie, I think you might be right about this dress._ It was such a departure from her usual casual style, something special for a special night.

She sat in their room watching TV, waiting for Ron to return, anticipating his reaction that she hoped would be favourable. There was no resemblance what-so-ever to anything she had worn at Hogwarts; not even to her dress at the Yule Ball, or the wedding. Those were immature in comparison.

There was a knock on the door which startled her and then she heard Ron's voice. "It's me, I forgot my card key," he said dejectedly.

She let out a sigh, turned off the TV and moved to the door in her jewelled high heels. As she opened the door she opened her mouth to say he was lucky his head was attached but the words never came out. Her mouth remained frozen in the O position as she gazed at her boyfriend in his dark suit, holding a dozen cream colored roses in front of him.

His mouth dropped open as his eyes went for a walk from head to toe. She spun around slowly for him to see her dress. "What do you think?"

She was wearing a figure hugging, red halter top style cocktail dress with scalloped hemline. He stared at her toned shoulders, eyes following her arms when one crossed over her stomach just below a plunging neckline that left just enough to the imagination, but revealed just enough of a bosom as well. Her back was bare with the exception of the tantalizing strings hanging from the knot at the bottom of her neck. One tug on one of those and... He had never seen her looking this incredible and he was momentarily speechless at the sight of her.

"You look–beautiful—worth the wait," he finally got out.

"Thank you. Beautiful for you," she replied as she backed up to let him in the room. _Thanks Angie!_

"Oh-uh, these are for you," he said as he held out the flowers to her.

"They're lovely. Thank you. I guess you didn't just get check on messages," she mused.

"Well, actually, I just wanted to get you flowers. If this was going to be a real date, I thought it should start out right. By the way, the lie I said to go and get them doesn't count. The date hadn't started yet."

"I'll give you that one!" Hermione laughed at him, thinking he was very cute. She conjured up a vase and put some water in it and deposited all but one rose in the vase. "This one comes with us," she said softly as she looked up at him. Then she leaned into him and kissed. It was supposed to be just a peck, but she found it wasn't enough and easily sunk into a deeper more fulfilling kiss.

His arms wrapped around her tiny waist as he pulled her closer. When they broke apart, they stared at each other a moment before Ron almost shook his head to break the spell he felt like she was casting on him. For a moment he felt as though she were part Veela. "Uh, we had better get going," he said reluctantly though suddenly he didn't want to leave the hotel room.

They went down to the restaurant of the hotel to eat, talking the whole night; subjects they had never discussed before on such an intimate level; friends, family quirks that each hoped they had escaped, but mainly the future.

"Mind if I pry a little?" she asked.

"Do I have a choice?" he eyed her, wondering where this was going.

"No. Well—you can choose not to answer I suppose, but I'm going to ask anyway."

"Fire away." He looked in the direction of the kitchen to see if their meals were coming soon. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what was coming.

"Well, you've given up almost a year of your life to help Harry."

He nodded, "So have you."

"Yes, but now you're here, helping me out," she added.

"Are you complaining?" he was confused a moment.

"No, that's farthest thing from my mind. I was just wondering. When is it your turn?"

"What do you mean?" he said defensively.

"I mean, well, I know you met with Kingsley. He offered me a job at the Ministry. I told him I wanted to go back to Hogwarts and finish. Then I would like to get a position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures so I can continue to work for the improvement of the lives of house-elves. Although, if they don't get rid of those radical pro-pure-blood laws, I'll have to consider Law Enforcement after all, despite what I told Scrimgeour. Gosh, can you believe that was almost a year ago?"

Ron rolled his eyes. She could get so forceful when she spoke about elf rights, even off her original topic. Hermione caught the look.

"Sorry, got side tracked. Anyway, you've been quiet about your meeting. I've been hoping you would talk to me about it. I've been wondering for a while now. What came of it? Do you mind my asking?" She could feel he had made a decision but was holding it back from her.

Ron let out a sigh. "No, I don't mind. If anyone has a right to ask, it's you." He thought of his mother's constant prying into the visit and his continuous rebuttals to her that he had some thinking to do. "He asked me what interested me. I told him I wanted to join the Auror Department—someday."

"Someday?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah," he said nervously. Here it was. Now she would know and he would find out if she would not be able to continue on with him. He had been putting this conversation off as long as he could. Damn. He had wanted this night to be special.

"What's holding you back? You'd be a great Auror. You certainly proved your muscle helping to defeat the greatest dark wizard ever. I saw you duelling. You turned out pretty amazing in a fight," she praised him honestly.

He smiled. "Thank you. Right back at you. I told him I had some thinking to do since we still had to come here and get your parents back."

He took a deep breath and began. "My meeting with him was the day of Fred's funeral. You were busy talking with Angelina as I recall. We sort of went for a walk and talked about life on the run and stuff, both our experiences. He reminded me Harry had already accepted a position in the Auror Department, which I knew anyway—skipping the three years of training. He offered me my choice of jobs. That was a nice compliment. That's when I told him I was interested in being an Auror someday.

"Why the delay? Did he want you to train?" Hermione asked as she took a sip of wine.

"No. He figures I just did the biggest training possible, I think. But, Fred's funeral that day, a few more interrogations with the ministry, and then we were coming here to Australia shortly after that. I told him I needed a little time to think things through but I probably was pretty sure about what I would do." He shifted uncomfortably, and continued. "Really, it's George I'm worried about. We all lost Fred, but to George, his twin was like his right arm. He seems so lost. You saw him when we played Quidditch?"

Hermione nodded. The mood at the Burrow was so sad; it was almost painful to smile at anyone; a seeming betrayal of grief. One day, Hermione had suggested a game of Quidditch over the orchard the way she, Ron, Harry and Ginny had played in the summer together. With Ron's older brothers, Bill, Charlie, and Percy, home, they could field pretty good teams and even release a snitch. Molly and Arthur took chairs out to watch them all, holding hands as they sat together. Hermione was a tad better than Percy which wasn't saying much. Harry enjoyed the exercise, looking more alive than he had in ages. Charlie really loved getting back on a broomstick and giving Harry a run for his money. It felt good to think about something other than all the funerals. George though, barely engaged. Though they all missed Fred, George was taking it particularly hard and Quidditch was a reminder that Fred was gone as opposed to a respite for George. Both twins had been beaters for Gryffindor so the game was not enough of a diversion for George, though it helped the others.

"He hasn't gone back to work yet," Ron continued. "Remember when I went to the shop to see him before joining you at Lovegood's to help with home repairs? He was just upstairs in the apartment trying to concentrate on making some new potions, but couldn't. He could hurt himself or someone else, or the building if he's not careful. He's just not focussed right now. I don't think he's sleeping too well. They weren't just brothers. They were best friends and business partners too. There's that connection that twins have," he sighed.

She nodded her head in agreement. "When we visited him, before coming here, Angie came into the shop. Nice that old friends are coming round a bit more for him. She's been really helpful since the battle and it's nice to see her again. Sad times have a way of bringing friends back together too. I, uh, asked her to drop by a bit while we were here if it wasn't too painful. They were twins after all. But she reminded me that she and Fred's dating had begun with the Yule Ball but pretty much ended a month later. So it's not that awkward I think. And it was three years ago." She paused a moment. "What do _you_ want to do Ron?" she queried.

""Want" may not be the right word for it. Need to? Have to, maybe?" He paused for a drink of wine before telling her his plans. He had found the drink mildly distasteful initially, but it was growing on him. This could be it for them he thought. She might not want a person who hasn't finished school. He took a deep breath and continued.

"I'm going to tell Kingsley that I'm going to help George get back on his feet." He looked at her apprehensively. "I'm going to help him in the shop for a little while and then, if there's still a position available, and if the offer is still open, then I'll become an Auror."

She looked at him dumbfounded and then a look of admiration crossed her face.

"I think that's incredible of you, Ron." She reached for his hand.

"You think so?"

"Yes, of course. Why? Don't you?"

"Well, "incredible" is not what I would call it, just—necessary. But, Hermione, I wouldn't be finishing school. I won't be making the same kind of money I would have at the Ministry. I'm probably going to continue being fairly poor. I'll be an employee, not a partner. I've complained about being poor all these years and I'm _choosing_ to continue being so. It'll delay us getting together, you know, officially, if it ever comes to that. You know I want to be able to offer something to you, some sort of security.

For a brief second she considered an argument that she could offer security to him too. Then she thought that one could wait for another day. "I don't need it to be official, as long as we are together. The money doesn't matter. You do. You are my security."

"That's the most impractical thing I've ever heard you say," he said softly.

"It may be impractical, but it's the truth. It could be practical though, you know, as long as we don't rush anything, as long as it's _just us_ for a while and there are no kids thrown in too early. We can do this, we can take our time." He looked sceptical, so she continued. "Ron, look at the funerals we've been to. Not one address has been about how they were financially blessed. Yes, money helps, but that's not what keeps people together for years. No, they talk about why a marriage lasted for so long—because of love, understanding, kindness, laughter, respect, patience, a willingness to compromise, acceptance of each other's faults, shared experiences good and bad, and," she squeezed his hand, "true friendship. That's what's important. That's what you've been giving me all these years to different degrees but now during these past couple months in particular, ever since the torture. Look at your parents. They are not rich people, financially speaking. But look at everything they have together. They look pretty rich to me. I think we'd be pretty lucky if we had half of their happiness, support, and respect for one another—not to mention the love they have which is obvious even after all these years."

He squeezed her hand and their eyes met in understanding. They'd make it work. She was sitting across from him with no judgement about a decision that was bothering him.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something and then stopped. He studied her. "What?" he said suspiciously.

"Well, you…Why were you afraid to tell me?"

He looked down ashamed, his ear turning red. "Because school is so much more important to you, than it is to me. I was afraid you wouldn't want to be with me. You might see me as a quitter." His self-doubt over the years felt like it was bubbling inside him all of a sudden.

"At what point, Ronald Weasley, did my telling you "I love you," make you think I have lost the capacity to think or know exactly who you are?" Hermione said indignantly.

"What?" he said, trying to buy time and figure out if he should actually answer that question. He decided not to.

"Ron, we have never seen school in the same light. Harry isn't going back and I don't think of him as a quitter, so why would I think of you that way? We were all offered the diplomas. It was my choice to go back. It will be the loneliest year of my life, I think, without you and Harry. But it is something _I_ need to do. I can't imagine you being there the whole year and worried about how George is doing. Your heart is in your family, Ron. It always has been, no matter how much you complained about them, you love them all very much and seeing any of them hurt has always brought out your protectiveness—the quality which attracted me to you in the first place. I need to go back, _for me_. You need to do what is best for you. I understand that. As long as we will still be together at the end of it, then I'm okay with it."

Ron looked at her and became a little choked up. "Maybe, I can convince George to open the store in Hogsmead so I can see you on weekends."

Hermione grinned. "Wouldn't those be your busiest times? I'm not going to let you work when I've come down to see you," she admonished.

"You had better not!" he said with a mischievous glint in his eye and reached for his wine glass. Hermione actually giggled. "By the way," he caught her eye, "Being here with you, _is _"my turn.""

"That's probably the sweetest thing you've ever said." She met his gaze and suddenly the world around them seemed to disappear. Their future together seemed closer and she couldn't wait to begin it.

The waiter arrived with their meals. Hermione was pleased with her choice but looked over at Ron's plate and then reached her fork over to stab at a bite. He raised his eyes with a mildly annoyed look.

"What?" she said with her mouth full, completely undoing how elegant she looked for a fraction of a second.

"Just for future reference, when we go out, are you always going to taste my meals before I do?" This had never happened at Hogwarts as they could all choose whatever was on the platters in front of them. Nor was this a problem in the tent as there was barely anything to eat and they all had the same thing. It had, to Ron's annoyance, surfaced in Sydney these past few days.

"Oh, sorry. Does that bother you? Here have some of mine," she said as she offered him her plate. "My parents do it all the time. Habit."

"If I wanted yours, I would have ordered it."

"Touché. Did I ever tell you about my aunt and uncle? Whenever they go out, they always order different meals and then split their meals completely with each other. I used to think they were nuts, but now I kind of think it has its merits."

"Okay, okay, give me a bite of yours. Feel less guilty now?" he said exasperatedly.

"Yes! You figured me out!" she laughed.

They laughed together, completely relaxed, falling into their old argumentative ways, but considerably less biting than in the past. Afterwards, they watched a show with another glass of wine, missing their usual Butterbeer, and enjoyed each other's company. Not constantly looking over their shoulders for signs of Death Eaters was very freeing.

When it was over, they walked through the lobby intent on going out for a walk in the moonlight. Music from the hotel's pub filtered in lightly, stirring a little interest. They decided to go dancing. Hermione thought briefly that she would need Viktor's presence to get him to dance with her, but to her amazement, he was more than game. They found a table in view of the dance floor. Ron put his jacket on the chair to reserve if for them when she indicated she wanted to dance when a song came on that she liked. Smiling, he grabbed her hand and led her to the floor, leaving the rose behind on the table. They moved easily with one another, both reading and countering movements, attuned to one another. Laughing and smiling and enjoying each other. Rolling their eyes at each other's made up moves, but always ending up back in each other's arms, eyes shining. She marvelled how his upper body could look completely still if he wanted, but if she let her eyes wander slowly downward, his lower body seemed to possess a talent all its own. She could not help but look at his behind if he spun. The way his trousers contoured his well shaped cheeks pulled at her hands to touch. More than one woman was watching him. He was oblivious to them. Only Hermione could hold him captive, her eyes roping him in towards a promised land of milk and honey.

Familiar notes of a piano began along with a lighter beat. A slower, romantic song played that beckoned an embrace, a whisper in the ear, loving eyes. Ron pulled Hermione gently to him, his arm coming around her waist lovingly, and their eyes locking on one another. Hermione felt light headed all of a sudden, light hearted, and light footed. Truth be told, she had a hard time focussing on any part of her body, except where Ron touched. Wherever there was contact, she felt like melting. He leaned in to kiss her softly, inadvertently releasing her waist as he instinctively raised his hands to cradle her face.

_Wise men say, only fools rush in,_

_But I can't help falling in love with you._

She felt both his hands pulling her to him. When he held her like that, she seemed to lose all sense of direction. He became her compass, in his direction was home and he was the needle pointing the way out of her isolation, out of a forest of trees that held no comforting canopy. In his direction lay all that she wanted. His voice a welcoming, whispering wind that gently caressed her.

His large, rough hands, softened when they touched her. His thumbs in front of her ears, his fingers cradling the back on her head and neck, they applied light pressure to move her lips to him more fully so he could truly rediscover her. Their kiss dissolving into a tempered need, like a race horse at the gate, shifting restlessly, waiting for the door to be released so it could escape.

Hermione moaned into his mouth, only he could hear it, feel it. It was contagious, his breath caught as he fought for control. His hands began to travel down the side on her neck, his fingertips leaving burning trails on her skin that resulted in raised flesh, coming alive in expectation. His hands simultaneously moved slowly over her bare shoulders and down her arms.

Feeling totally hot and flushed, she began to imagine what those hands could do to her. She imagined them roaming back up to the tie at the back of her neck, their eyes locked on each other as it came apart, the halter falling to her waist. His eyes would enjoy what they saw. His hand coming up to cup her breast, giving it lavish attention before his mouth descended on her nipple, taking in his teeth and gently pulling—enough to stimulate more arousal, but not hurt her. One hand busy with one breast, his other would take care of the other until the overriding need for their mouths to find each other would take over again. They would be the only ones there, on the dance floor, everyone else, everything else, would fade into non-being.

She was brought out of her dream as Ron began to sing softly, mouthing the words at times. "Some things are meant to be."

_Take my hand; take my whole life too..._

_For I can't help, falling in love with you._

They held each other closely, and he kissed again and again as they moved about slowly. Their eyes finally connecting again, they read each other's thoughts. Time to leave. They retrieved his jacket from the chair and her rose and made their way to the exit.

"Elvis Presley, Ron? How on earth..."

"Dad. He likes Muggle music. Remember the blue car? There was a tape thing in it, Elvis Presley. He didn't get the motor to run right away, but the battery worked and so did the stereo. Heard it all summer before we crashed it." He was trying to cool himself down. _I was too obvious. She might feel pushed into it._

"Well, lucky for me," she said as the elevator door opened and they stepped on.

It was just before midnight when they went back to their room. He opened the door for her to enter before him. She walked ahead into the room and then felt a change. He did not follow her. He stood at the door and waited for her to turn.

"That was probably the nicest night of my life. I think I was the envy of every man tonight walking in with you. You look absolutely beautiful." He reached for her hand to pull her close and planted the most romantic, loving kiss on her that he could. He stepped back a bit and kissed her hand. "Goodnight."

Taken aback, Hermione looked at him unsure. "Aren't you coming in?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. This is the end of the date. I want it done right…you know, if someday we do end up together and there are kids, you can tell them their dad was a gentleman on our first date and it won't be a lie."

She smiled at his reasoning and thought it was very sweet. Considering the way they had just been dancing and looking at each other, she wasn't sure how he could just stop the date. For a moment she wondered if it was gallantry or she was somehow being rejected. Then she realized he was still talking about a future for them. He still had them in mind for years to come.

Their situation was different, she thought. The night after the torture, when she had taken the potion Luna made to induce all prior nightmares to purge them from her mind, they had spoken so earnestly about their feelings for each other. They had their first kiss. He told had told her in case something happened to him during the upcoming war, that he hoped there would be a future for them, marriage, and a family. He had been afraid that they would be separated in some way, though each knew he meant death, and she wouldn't know what she meant to him. It was a bizarre feeling to sort of be engaged, but not officially, especially this early on in their relationship. They had decided to hide the change in their relationship from Harry so he would stay focussed and not feel uncomfortable around them. They had done well until the battle when Hermione couldn't do it any longer and had kissed Ron right in front of Harry. And now, here they were, truly working on that future together. The war was over, families were in the process of being re-established, their hearts and lives open to the promise of that future. She stared at the incredible man in front of her, happy to be where they were now, but wanting more.

"Goodnight. I had a wonderful time." She condescended to his game and closed the door.

Ron walked down to the common terrace near the elevators. There was a small bar and tables and chairs set up for people who wanted to enjoy the outdoors in a larger space than the private balconies off each room. No one was out there this time of year, the tables and chairs stacked along the side. He took out his wand. "_Alohomora!_" The door to the terrace unlocked and swayed open and he walked to the balustrade and leaned on his elbows against it, taking in the view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The cool air helping him the way a cold shower would.

oOo

Hermione looked at the time, 11:58pm. Hmmm, she thought. The date's over, but their night together wouldn't be if she had anything to say about it. Since seeing him in the towel earlier—the thoughts running through her head all night would not let her go.

She turned around and looked at the beautiful roses and placed the single one she had brought with them back with the others. She tried to decide how she should do what she wanted to do. She looked at herself in the mirror, and unpinned her hair. She shook it out, down loosely about her shoulders. She opened the drawer of the dresser and took out a couple little garments and then went to the bathroom to take off her dress and put on his bathrobe. She rubbed lightly scented moisturizer on her legs, and put her shoes back on. She looked at herself in the mirror, and touched up her makeup that she rarely wore. She stained her lips with the lipstick as opposed to a full application. Not exactly what she had dreamed of how she would look when the next step would take place, but he had driven it this way. If he wanted the date to be finished, then finished it would be.

She returned to the main room and conjured her little bluebell flames in strategic positions throughout the room. She opened a bottle of wine that was in the fridge and found some wine glasses. Then she moved to her bag and removed a potion, which Angie had insisted she take with her just in case, but had not unpacked. Removing the stopper, she took a drink, recorked it, and placed it behind the lamp on the night table between the beds. As she set the bottle down, she was grateful to have the slightly older girl's guidance. She could not fathom discussing with Ginny any details of how she would bed her brother.

She was just ready when she heard Ron enter the room and turned to him.

oOo


	7. Reward

**Chapter 7: Reward**

A/N: I need to take a little artistic license here. I searched HP info on the net and could not find any courses at Hogwarts that Ron took that would involve literature—funny considering JKR is so into the classics herself that she did not include that in her curriculum. We know Hermione took Muggle Studies so I am going to assume that it included at least one Muggle book for cultural reasons. Now you'll have to bear with me, because in this chapter, Ron needs an exposure to some type of literature. Arithmancy might have helped here with a novel with hidden numbers and meaning, but only Hermione took that. One would hope that a wizard or witch has written a novel at some point. If I've got you shaking your head right now, you'll find out why soon enough.

oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Hi." He returned her salutation and smiled. Damn! She could look awesome in anything tonight, he thought. He took note of her in the white teri-bathrobe that he had worn earlier. She was still wearing her high heels though. That was curious, he thought. His tie was loose around his unbuttoned shirt, the way he had always worn his uniform at Hogwarts.

"Our wonderful first date's over. It's a new day technically." She motioned awkwardly to the alarm clock. "I found some wine in the fridge and…" She slowly walked over to meet him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. When they broke apart she gazed up at him with such adoration in her eyes. "I…was thinking…" She reached for the wine glasses, handing him one. "To first dates."

He wasn't sure if she was nuts, or cute. Deciding on the latter, he played along and clinked his glass to hers and repeated, "To first dates." He took a sip and watched as she downed most of hers. The atmosphere felt different—nervous.

"First date is done right?" she said, looking for confirmation.

"Right," he replied, eyeing her curiously.

"It was wonderful. I couldn't have asked for a better one, Ron. Everything, from start," she eyed her roses, "to finish was very special. Thank you. Now, I need you to stop being a gentleman."

"What?"

She had a strange look about her as she turned and walked about five feet from him and set her wine glass down on the dresser opposite the unused bed. Her hands moved to untie the belt of her bathrobe as she turned to face him in the magicked bluebell flame light and opened the robe. The edges softly covering the crests of her breasts; his eyes were pulled to the exposed valley between and the teasing mountains that were half covered. There was a blazing look in her eyes as she stood there watching him devour her with his blue orbs. She knew what she was doing was tantalizing him. All it took was a glimpse of the black bra and panties. Wherever he had gone to cool down, she could feel she was melting his reserve that he had so valiantly tried to convey earlier. She revelled in his startled look, his speechless mouth that parted open and seemed to freeze in that position. The blood seemed to be draining from his face. She was pleased. _Merlin, I can do this!_

She walked boldly towards him, stared directly into his eyes, daring him not to touch her. "Hermione…" he panted, his breathing suddenly laboured. She was gorgeous to him. He had trouble taking his eyes off her to locate the wine bottle, and ascertain how much might have been consumed in his absence. But it only looked like the contents of their two glasses were missing. He quickly calculated what they drank tonight—two glasses of wine with dinner five hours ago and only one when they were dancing in the pub. The effects were so much stronger than Butterbeer. The wine bottle sat in front of the mirror. In its reflection he could see Hermione from the back. In that moment she dropped the robe to the floor. He had a full 360 degree view of her. His eyes widened and his knees began to get weak. _Christ! She's wearing a thong!_ Double spaghetti straps wrapping around her sides and descending towards her center and disappearing into the most perfectly shaped bottom...

Her hands were slowly sliding up his chest and around his neck, making his flesh feel like it was on fire under his shirt wherever she touched. She brushed her lips against his several times, teasing him, but never connecting fully. Her breath was warm against his face, her chest heaving against his, matching the breaths that taunted him, driving him almost mad with desire.

His jaw muscle was visibly working to stay still. "You're sure—this is what you want," he whispered. "You're trembling—and—that was a big gulp you just took." Somehow he managed to put his glass down on the dresser behind her. He worried that she was doing this only for him, because he was so obviously desirous of her on the dance floor.

She looked down, disappointed. "Only because, I'm nervous, and now I'm beginning to think I've just made a fool of myself."

"No. Not at all. I've," his voice caught a moment. "I've wanted you since the moment I gave you the flowers. Nervous? Me too. But, this will change things. There's no going back."

Hermione's face looked mortified. "I have made a fool of myself," she whispered and began to turn red. She grabbed the robe from the floor putting it back on and ran to the bathroom, locking the door. _How could I have misread him?_ Her eyes darted around the room as her face contorted in embarrassed agony.

"No! Hermione! Don't! Don't do this! You don't understand!"

"Just leave me alone," she sobbed. How could she look at him? He may love her, but he didn't want her. She was thoroughly ashamed and humiliated.

"I will not!" he said firmly. He took his wand out of his jacket and with a flourish, commanded, "Alohomora!" The door opened to reveal Hermione sitting in the robe on the toilet lid. She looked up and turned immediately away from him toward the shower.

"I'm a fool. I'm sorry," she said wiping tears away before they fell.

He knelt before her, and turned her to him. His hand came up to caress her cheek and he made sure she was looking at him when he continued. "No. Hermione, far from it." He swallowed visibly before he went on. "I usually mess up before getting anything right. Obviously, I've done it again, while trying not to. Don't you understand? I don't want to mess up with you. You're too important to me. I've dreamed about this moment with you, about making love to you…"

Hermione made a confused face. If he dreamed about them together then why stop now? "You've dreamed about us?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I have too."

"Yes, I know," he said deprecatingly. The night of the nightmares where practically every awful thing he had said or done to her in their past came back to point the finger at how much of a git he had been to her.

She saw in his eyes where his mind went. "No, Ron, I don't mean the nightmares." Her head was tilted down bashfully she looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I mean, I've dreamed of us being together, making love," she finished embarrassed.

"Yeah?" he asked softly. She nodded. He smiled at her. They were on the same wavelength, but he needed to be sure of everything first. "Only do this if this is truly what _you_ want and are ready for. Please don't do this because you feel I pressured you because I want to, which…I do. I wasn't very good at control earlier. You were just so beautiful tonight, a dream." Her head jerked up, renewed hope in her eyes. "I just don't want you to feel, in two months say, that you think we made a mistake because you weren't really ready. I'll wait. You're worth the wait. We, are worth the wait if it's what you want."

"You're worried about me?"

"Always, even if I'm not the best with words or showing it. Don't ever make me write you a Valentine's Day card. I'll sadly disappoint you."

She laughed, her spirits lifted instantly. Hermione stared at Ron a moment in wonder. Her heart was totally safe here. Why in the world did she have a moment's doubt? "You're making me love you more by the minute."

"Hmm. Maybe we should wait at least an hour or so then," he mused with a grin. He leaned in to kiss her lightly and then stayed in close proximity, taking in her scent.

His closeness made her catch her breath. She stared at him, melting into eyes that would protect her even from himself if needed. Damn, she found him so sexy, the way he looked at her. It dripped from him and it was not just his closeness, or his aftershave that was playing havoc with her senses. It was everything he made her feel about herself that made him more attractive to her. Her senses heightened to everything in that moment. He would give in if she said the word. She did. "I don't think I can wait even that long."

Her actions reflected her answer as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to her. She tilted her head up to his and her tongue began tracing the inside of his lips, teasing him and then, the full connection, hard and penetrating into his mouth and he lost himself in the kiss. He dropped his resistance completely in that moment, finally allowing his hands to truly touch her, to wrap around her waist, pulling her in close. He pulled her to a standing position and led her out of the bathroom into the bedroom area. Then slowly his hands found their way under the robe down to her low back and slowly, with savour, down buttocks, reaching the bottom he squeezed gently but firmly, pulsing—intensifying a need in her for his touch to be everywhere on her body. His hands slowly moved up to her tiny waist, his thumbs lightly arcing over the sensitive plain of her stomach amusing him as he felt her react to his touch. They stood kissing and feeling everything both physically and emotionally.

She took a slight step back to look at him with smouldering eyes, analyzing his attire. Deciding he was wearing too much, she began pushing his jacket off, and then attacked his tie, whipping it off over his head. Her fingers moved to the buttons on his shirt as he continued to devour her with kisses on her neck.

His hands moved to her hips, massaging in probing circles, not only his sensuous hands moving in circles, but he was bringing her hips to his over and over again simultaneously like rods on the wheels of an old fashioned train car, causing her to moan in desire. He enjoyed watching her body begin to thaw, her breathing in quick gasps.

His hands cupped her face, gently pulling her to him. His lips, like magnets, drew her in with an invisible force that permeated everything in her. Gentle, sensual, probing, discovering anew, their tongues met and explored each other's, eliciting a moan from her she could not contain, nor did she try. She wanted this. Until now, she had no idea how much her body was aching for his.

He looked at her, his blue eyes smouldering with a desire for her that he no longer wanted to control, but he would for just a little longer. They would experience this first time heart, mind, and body together, taking their time, mutual need dictating their pace. His thumbs slowly, firmly pushed her head back slightly exposing her neck to him and he sensuously traced an invisible line from her chin down her throat to her collar bone, echoing his touch at the harbour. Only this time it did not stop. He did not leave her wanting. His thumbs followed the ridge of her collarbone outward in both directions towards her soft, smooth shoulders. His hands slipped under the untied, thick white barrier that shielded her from him.

"Never judge a book…by its cover," he whispered to her as he pushed the plain robe from her shoulders revealing her exquisite body. The robe fell to the floor a second and final time. He hadn't realized it, but they were in front of the mirror again. Instantly, his heart rate increased as his eyes devoured her eagerly from every angle. His mouth watered, his tongue yearned to connect with any part of her again. "Hermione, you're so beautiful."

Arched slightly backward, her breasts pushed against the restraining lace of her black bra. Hogwarts uniforms hid so much of what was truly feminine. Now he saw her perfect curves, hiccupping his effort at control. He had to touch. She pushed her chest towards him, desperate for him to make contact with her breasts. Realizing it would drive her mad, he tried to resist going directly for her breasts. He smiled when a frustrated gasp escaped her lips. Soon, so soon. Slowly his fingers travelled down the backs of her arms sending shivers through her. They stopped at the insides of her elbows, positioning her hands against him, allowing her to begin an exploration of his chest. Her fingers stopped over his breasts, mildly pinching his nipples, daring him to reciprocate. As she did so, his nipples hardened and so did hers.

The look on his face enbolded her. "This book, Ronald Weasley," she panted "can be looked at from varying points of view," she teased as she cocked her head mischievously and slowly turned in his arms, facing away from him. She swung her hair so that it all fell down the left side of her neck. She bent slightly and her black thong adorned backside leaned into him, pressing against his hardness. Her eyes widened at the new unfamiliar yet provocative contact. She could feel him and was awed at the rigidity there already and his size. Would he fit? "Perspective is everything." She bent forward slightly, teasing him the way he did with her breasts.

"I see that." Then he couldn't help himself and pulled her against him more firmly and through his pants he could feel himself sink between her cheeks. "Do you need a book mark?" he asked huskily. Her breath caught at the mere thought of him there, let alone the feeling. Then his hands slipped around front, cupping her breasts, pulling her back against his chest, as he bent his head to nip at her exposed neck. She inhaled, pushing her breasts into his hands even firmer. The longed for sensation did not disappoint her. She felt alive, a connection between her breasts and her lower core caught fire. Her thighs began to flex as she tightened her inner walls at the sensations he could create in her merely fondling her breasts. Her eyes fluttered as she leaned back into him angling her neck for him to have more access. Her hands began exploring him behind her, her left hand slid to his groin, the other to the back of his neck, encouraging him onwards. He let out a shudder. "Fuck! Hermione!"

"Is that the title of this book?" she teased, as she noticed them in the mirror. Her back to his front, she could still see his face, his lusty grimace. His eyes never so compelling as they connected in the mirror.

"Hell, yes!" his breathing coming in shudders.

"Hmmmm," she continued groping him through his pants. "Chapter 1: Standing." She discovered a different power here; it came innately, more powerful than magic.

"Merlin!" he eyes rolled back as he enjoyed her massaging.

"Don't bring him into this. I don't think I need magic to get you to do what I want right now."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Chapter 2: Pick Me Up and Carry Me to Bed. I've fantasized about you carrying me to bed and making love to me."

Her words sent multiple shivers down his spine. His mind flashed to the first time he carried her in his arms. Unconscious and bloodied from the torture by Bellatrix Lestrange, he carried her to safety at Shell Cottage. Fear. Just a couple hours later he had carried her from Dobby's grave over the uneven terrain when her legs were still unsteady. Then she walked into the cottage on her own. Pride. Now she was voicing her desire to be in his arms, she the driving force taking charge. Love.

His eyebrows climbed towards his hair line, amused and happy to comply after a moment more of enjoying her handiwork. "Think, you'll always, talk this much during sex?'

"Books... are full of words, Ron," she teased. He started it after all.

He smiled at her as his right arm scooped under her legs and he supported her back with his left. He rained small feather light kisses on her neck and face as he brought her to the turned down bed. "Such as, Miss Granger?" He set her down and his upper body straddled her while he sat leaning over her from the side of the bed, continuing to lavish her alabaster skin with attention. His eyes feasted on her. Her hair splayed across the pillow under her, her long stilettoed legs stretched out in front of her.

Her hands had slipped under his shirt, beginning to enjoy the strong muscles of his shoulders that flexed so beautifully when he picked her up. His biceps beckoned to her. She needed to see them, to run her hands over his arms. She pushed the shirt backwards and off of him, revealing those arms, the muscles at play, flexing as he helped to shake it from his frame. Arms that held her tight, could carry her when asked, arms that beckoned her lips. They tempted her. She leaned forward to begin kissing her way up his arms over his nicely shaped shoulders and to his ears, running her hands through his hair. She was enjoying the layered foreplay of words and physicality. Ron could challenge her at the oddest times, she thought, but she could also see he was trying to keep her relaxed and in her element.

"Hard," she said as she ran her hands over his arms again, squeezing, her eyes drinking them in, never realizing before how much arms attracted her. She moved to the front of his pants, easily finding the bulge that wanted escape. His hips immediately pushed in her hand. He kissed her deeply, his tongue mimicking in her mouth what his groin was doing in her hand. He probed in and out, swirling inside her, both moaning their pleasure. They broke hard for air, her breast heaving against their restraints as their passion began building to new heights. She added breathlessly in between kisses, "More. Now. Need." Their eyes met, "Love. Want... Hunger." She added the last one, realizing how much her mouth was waiting to couple with him anywhere. Her teeth were in agony, needing him to their very roots, pulsing in need as much as the area between her legs which felt more saturated by the moment.

He smiled at her, watching her expressions become less and less reserved and more adamant in her demanding need. Need for me. He moved his body directly over hers, straddling her, one knee hovering briefly above her thighs. "Open your book," he whispered. She separated her legs and his right knee sank between them, exerting a little pressure.

She inhaled at the new connection. She was aching for the contact, any contact. Instinctively she began to grind against him. She began to lose herself somewhere in the moment. He looked down where her groin was meeting his still pant covered leg and whispered in her ear, "Wet.. Ride."

It was all she needed to send her into a frenzy, his voice that close to her ear, breathing huskily. Shivers went through her body as her core began to tingle to a life beyond anything she had ever experienced. She turned her face to him, noticing him watching her as he pushed against her harder, faster. She shut her eyes tight focussing on the exact position that gave her the most pleasure. Her legs began to tremble uncontrollably, her breathing erratic. Her hands flew back against the headboard, pushing against it to give her more resistance. Ron repositioned to accommodate, one hand supporting himself while his other immediately surged forward to take hold of a breast that was bobbing in a frenzy that matched her pumping. His mouth descended, taking the nipple he could see through the bra into his teeth and tugging on it. That was it. The dual stimulation sent shock waves through her system. "Ron!" She screamed his name as she reached her climax. She grabbed on to him, pulling him down on her, her breaths hard and fast as the sensational wave slowly subsided. Leaving wonder in its wake, she stared at Ron, mesmerized.

"Fuck! Ron! I didn't know…" she panted.

"Shut up and enjoy it. I am." Never in any fantasy had he dreamed he could make a woman come with his knee. Sex was going to be a fascinating journey of discovery, indeed!

"Wow! And that was just, not even penetration…Wow!

He moved to kiss her again and then his hand moved to the sweet spot between her legs, trying to keep her stimulated. "We'll have to make that a recurring motif, I think."

"Good God, Ron!" she panted. "Keep doing that! ... When did you ever listen that closely in Lit. Class? Whoa!" she barely got the words out before his fingers pushed aside the thong and found her entrance. She inhaled at his penetration of her, her legs coming up to allow him more room.

"I listened. Just never found an application that—interested me," he said his eyes dark with lust.

"Glad I could help. Fuck! I feel like I could cum again just looking at you."

His lips covered hers again, her desire coursing through him. Her hands began exploring him again, enjoying the feel of his backside through his dress pants. She rubbed him in circles, squeezing and pulling at him. "Ron, you have a gorgeous ass in those pants. Now, how about out of them?" What he was doing with his fingers, it could only be better with other parts of his anatomy, couldn't it?

Happy to comply, he stood up, making her want to follow. She sat up, kissing his stomach, sinking her tongue into his navel and flicking it about in that sensuous depression, sending tingles all the way to his manhood. Her hands began working his belt, his button and zipper were quickly followed up on. She slid her hands in and under the offending clothing, smoothly caressing his firm backside. She stood, making him take a step back to make room for her. She walked around him and she slowly lowered his clothes to the floor, releasing him from his prison. Coming back to his front, her arms slid up and around his neck initiating a passionate kiss as she opened her leg slightly to straddle his shaft and tease him by gyrating against him as they stood together in the space between the beds. She thought it would torture him, but found herself needing him more by the second.

He was becoming harder by the moment if that was possible. His length was slick with her juices. All he wanted to do was throw her back and sink deep inside her so badly. Her heavy breathing igniting more passion, her hands gripping the back of his neck, pulling him hard into her. Sweat beginning to cover their bodies with the force of their passion together. He knew it could be good with them. Now he knew it was. Wrenching his mouth from hers to breathe, his felt his chest compressing hard with his attempt to keep in time with her and not let his own needs overtake him. The kissing broken, he began a trail down her neck to her shoulder, and followed her bra strap downward with his tongue, his right hand coming up to pull the fabric down to expose her left breast, finally releasing her. She gasped. His thumb circled her nipple, teasing both of them. His mouth came back to hers, crashing down hard, demanding, his tongue seeking to claim dominance over hers before he quickly moved to the exposed breast and took it into his mouth, arching her backwards to expose her to him more. She never felt more desired in her life and all she could think of was she wanted more. He released her breast, one hand moving back to her hair, pulling back her head, capturing her mouth one more time while his other hand freed her other breast from her bra. "Beautiful. So beautiful," he breathed huskily. "Next chapter: Strip."

For a brief second she tried to remember it was chapter 3, but his fingers found their way to the clasp of her bra and quickly had it on the floor next to his pants. His mouth found her other breast and paid such attention to it that she felt it to her very core. His tongue licked and nipped at her areola, his hand cupping her, pulsing his grip on her. "Ron. Ron, I need you."

His hands moved down her back to her thong and slowly inched it down her legs, letting it drop to the floor. Yes, she did need him. He picked up her scent as he bent down. It was overwhelming him with desire, but he knew she might need it to be slow. Some women experienced pain. He gently laid her down on the bed and positioned himself at her entrance. He held back. "Sweetheart, I need you too, so much, but it will hurt you. I don't want to hurt you."

"It has to be done. You're the only one I want to do this." She took hold of his shaft, already lubricated from her own fluids, and began pumping him to get him focused on their intimacy and not her welfare. There was no way around the pain she would experience her first time, and there was no one else she wanted it to be with.

Her thumb gently teased the tip of his length distracting him completely, his head tilting back in his own building ecstasy before she guided him to her opening. He braced his arms on either side of her, and entered slowly at first as her body began to open to him and swallow him.

"Merlin, you're wet." He began to lose himself in thrusts into her, his pace increasing along with the force. It felt so good to be inside her, truly joined.

She welcomed him over and over. He was losing himself in her, and she was taking pleasure in this very different sensation of being filled by him. Her hands over his shoulders enjoying the feel of him until finally he hit her hymen at such a force that it bordered on tearing and her nails dug into his skin leaving crescent shaped marks on the back of his shoulders.

He stared at her and the pain on her face. That was it; he was going to pull out, he decided, no matter how close he was to his own building climax.

She felt him change, opened her eyes to his. He was so close, his movements had suddenly become more urgent, forceful, and his beautiful arms were beginning to tremble when the concerned look in his eye told her he would forego it for her. _No!_ She immediately lowered her hands to his buttocks and pulled him into her so forcefully that he broke through at the same time as his going over the edge himself. All thought lost to him for a moment as he emptied himself in her.

He collapsed on to her, her arms and legs coming around him and hugging him so tightly, keeping his weight on her despite his effort to move to her side. She whimpered so briefly and then it was gone. He was breathing hard into her neck as he slowly came down from his high. He pulled out of her and rolled off, and looking down at their genitals, lightly covered in blood. He pulled her in close to hold her, the afterglow of his climax shadowed by her discomfort.

"I'm sorry."

"Why? I'm not."

"It shouldn't be like that for women. It's not right," he said, out of breath.

She reached over and caressed his face. "I saw you. You were going to stop."

"Well, yeah."

"Don't you think it was better just to get that part over with?"

"It still bothers me."

"You should try it from this side."

"Hermione, I would if I could," he said sincerely. She looked at him sceptically. "I'd rather be in pain than watch you go through pain. Had enough of that in my lifetime already." He kissed her forehead, panting.

"What happens when I go through childbirth someday? You are going to be there aren't you?"

"Whoa! That's getting ahead of ourselves, isn't it?

"Yes. But there will be pain in life. As long as we are here for each other, we'll get through it."

"True," he said kissing her hand. "We will be."

"Maybe tomorrow we can try again and we won't have to worry about that," her eyebrows twitching suggestively.

"Sounds good. Um, other than the obvious, was it…?"

"Oh my God, Ron! It was incredible! Intense! How did you feel?"

"Incredible only begins to describe it. Hermione, you are one beautiful woman."

"Thank you. You aren't so bad yourself. Glad you read this book?" she grinned.

"Cover to cover," he said as he grabbed the sheets to cover them up when he noticed goose bumps forming on her arms now that they were still. He caressed her face, "The only book I've ever read cover to cover. The only book I've ever wanted to read."

"I think we've beat that metaphor to death!"

"Nope, one more. I think we've cracked that spine." She swatted him good naturedly. "Okay, that's enough, well other than the obvious climax one." She shook her head, exasperatedly. "By the way, where did you get that dress? You looked so effing hot in it. Literally, apparently."

"Angelina lent it to me. She insisted I take something special when she found out we were coming for two weeks. I tried it on and was more than a little nervous. It sort of shows everything! Every curve…Anyway, when I mentioned that most of my clothes were getting a little worn after camping so much, she insisted I come over and raid her closet of a few items. She took out the dress for me to try on and pretty much hinted that I might need something really nice in Australia. I had my dress from the wedding, but she insisted that I have something different. It's certainly that. Not my usual style, although I don't exactly get to wear dresses much so I don't know that I have a style except that figure hugging is not usually it."

"Well, that explains it. She insisted I bring my suit, made me promise, and suggested taking you out at least once for a special evening. I had already thought of that, but hadn't thought of bringing the suit."

"I'm glad. You looked VERY handsome in it."

"Thank you."

"I love you, Ron."

"I love you too, Hermione. More and more…hmmm, the plot thickens!" he joked as his fingers reached between her legs where it was still wet.

She rolled her eyes and kissed him, "Goodnight."

"Night, love. Shit!"

"What?"

"Ah, I wasn't thinking about protection, or..."

"Taken care of." She motioned to the bottle on the nightstand. "I was thinking."

"You always do. You always do. Thanks." They snuggled in each other's arms, spent and happy. Ready for sleep. In the quiet a low chuckle could be heard coming from him.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Well, I was definitely right. Sex does change things."

"Regarding?" she had to know this one.

"You! You said 'fuck' twice—within a minute!" He smirked. "You sound very sexy when you swear during sex. Like a new wild Hermione. It's very hot."

She smiled as her face flushed. She quietly wondered what else she was capable of.

"Uh, Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to take off your shoes?"

oOo

A/N: Well, that was my first M scene. Hope it went alright. Very hard to write their first time together, knowing full well what she will have to endure. I wanted her to have good memories from it though, so that's why she needed to have a little fun before hand. Couldn't pass up playing with "bookish" Hermione. Books can indeed bring out a lot of adventures!

HELP! Sadly, I don't like the title to the next the next chapter—which is more personal exploration for our pair. Current title is _Repetition_. Runner up is _Rooms_ (You get the picture! I thought it might be a bit tacky or offensive to some. But, I like it and think it's funny.) Third option is _Romance. So, if you are going to review or PM then please, have your say or suggest a new one._

I doubt there will be an upload for a few days I'm of town on a business trip tomorrow and Friday. Sorry.


	8. Rooms

**Chapter 8: Rooms**

Sunlight streamed from behind the edges of the dark blue curtains of the hotel room. Ron woke slowly, his eyes surveying the room. The little blue flames were still ignited. Immediately remembering what had transpired the night before, he turned his head towards where Hermione lay. His eyes met a familiar pair of eyes gazing back at him and lips curving slowly into a smile.

"Good morning."

"Morning," he smiled. "It wasn't a dream."

Hermione's eyes seemed to sparkle as she leaned in and kissed him fully. "I've been waiting for you to wake up." She rolled into him and his arms came around her, pulling her on top of him. Their lips connecting again, her hair falling down around them, keeping everyone and everything out of the world they had made for just them alone right now. Both forgot this was the day they had planned on looking for her parents. It could wait. They made love again and again, spending the entire day in bed together. They surfaced for room service and were immediately back in each other's arms.

oOo

The phone interrupted a blissful sleep. Ron reached for the contraption he found annoying and listened to the computerized voice telling him what button to push for a message. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a pen and paper. He wrote quickly and then hung up.

"What was that?" asked a sleepy Hermione.

"A message from my dad. I've got your parents' address, right here in Sydney. You were right. So, whenever you want to go, we can make plans."

She sat up, the sheet dropping to her waist. She took the sheet of paper he offered her and looked at it. Her emotions were doing somersaults. She desperately wanted to see her parents again, but that would mean this time with just her and Ron would be at an end.

She looked at the paper again and then back at Ron. They knew where to find her parents. She threw it over her shoulder and leaned into him for a long sweet kiss.

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm still doing research here," she said with a gleam in her eye.

Ron lay back on his pillows pulling her with him. "_Lots_ of… _investigative_ research, very technical. We shouldn't leave a stone unturned, or…a method unexplored. Good training for an Auror-to-be." She looked at him suspiciously. "I mean I need to look at every angle, every possible curve that could be thrown my way." His hands roamed over her buttocks and up the curve of her low back. A sensitive spot made her inhale. He smiled, "See, now these are things I need to know." He pulled her face to his and began kissing her, moving down her neck and kept going.

Hermione laughed at his extension of her metaphor and succumbed eagerly to his exploration of her body. While he was busy doing toe tingling research, she brought her mind into focus enough to take another drink of the Contraceptive Potion sitting on the nightstand.

No sooner had she put the stopper back on the bottle, than she felt herself get dragged by her feet towards the center of the bed. "Aaaahh!" she laughed as he descended on top of her, kissing her, grabbing her hands and holding them above her head as his lips traveled to her breasts. He never failed to make her wet just by paying the slightest attention to her chest.

"You're so fucking gorgeous."

"Bet you say that to all the girls."

"No, just the smart ones. I've got a thing for smart...bushy haired...women. Wanna see it?

She burst out laughing and then figured she give him a little pay back and manoeuvred him so that she could flip him on the mattress. She looked down at his cock, standing at attention. "Can't miss it," she said as she reached down and wrapped her fingers around it, beginning to pump him like mad. This time his eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth parted, his breath catching at her handling of him.

She enjoyed watching the expressions of ecstasy cross his face. But it wasn't enough. She wanted pure bliss and that, she decided, was something she could provide in another fashion. Her grip changed as she repositioned herself to his lower body. A moment later, she bent down and took him into her mouth. The shudder that ran through him was exactly what she wanted. It gave her chills to know she could do this to him. She continued to pump him up and down as her mouth wrapped around and stimulated him dually. She braced her weight on her knees to support herself as her other hand invaded and wrapped itself around his sack, gently squeezing, massaging, groping. His reaction was over the top as his legs began to shake. She teased his head with her tongue as her hand began different manipulations of him, varying the sensations he was feeling.

"Fuck! Hermione! Holy Shit!" he gasped, a level desperation in his voice. It pleased her. He was putty in her hands; this big, tall man would be a slave to her in seconds.

Suddenly she felt him grab her leg, and manoeuvre her own end toward him. He began to fondle her wet area. One finger sinking in between her folds. Her eyes widened and she moaned in appreciation. Seconds later after a new release of fluids, he inserted another finger and began sliding in and out of her, matching her oral work on him. A third finger made her gasp audibly. Ron smirked as he continued to enjoy her manipulation of his body too. The tempo increasing, the force, harder, they mirrored each other's movements, sending each other through the exploding fireworks that wracked their bodies for minutes afterwards.

oOo

Lying on her stomach, Hermione closed her eyes, concentrating on all the sensations her boyfriend was creating in her as he slowly moved his way up her body. Blowing in some places, licking in others, fingertips tickling her, she never felt so attuned to her body. Ron straddled her butt and began to massage her back. Every so often his fingertips would brush the spot where her side met the beginnings of her breasts. Nerve endings came alive. Sensing her arousal, he continued massaging and would slowly sink his hands further down her breasts from her back, teasing her. Her breaths would stop a moment as she savoured the sensations he created in her.

"Ron?"

"Hmmm?"

"What do you fantasize about?"

"Not what. Who. And that would be you."

"Okay..._what_ am I doing to you?" she drawled.

"Which time?"

"Really?" She rolled over, making him rise up off of her briefly to do so. He enjoyed the view a moment and then continued his massage of her, this time from the front. Beginning at her neck, his hands sensuously ran over her shoulders and then her breasts. He watched her, loving the looks that passed over her lovely features as he continued his own interest hardening. "We are alone...Oh, God! That feels wonderful...We can do whatever we want." Her eyes rolled back in her head.

He smirked. "I am. But if you want to know, I've always been interested in the shower."

"Aahh, really? Sounds fascinating. But, how? Slow and methodical or ...passionate." She found it difficult to talk, his work was so distracting.

"Well, sort of imagined it really full of..." his voice trailed off as his hands roamed over her breasts again.

"Passion?" her breath caught as his thumbs played with her nipples. She opened her eyes to his slowly losing reason as the veil of lust descended over them. Something happened to his jaw when he looked at her like that. It protruded out a bit, muscles working in his neck. He looked so strong and sexy like that. She looked at his arms, flexing as his hands explored her chest, ribs, and stomach, gently paying attention to every part of her as if his hands were committing the feel of her to memory. Then the thought of him in the mist, warm water washing over them...her legs began to squirm; her folds became wet, craving him. Her breathing altered to exaggerated breaths that arched her back and pushed her breasts into his hands when he made contact.

"Honestly? Just all out ...nuts."

She smirked as she reached for his extending length, sitting up and pushing him back a little. Then, she sat in his lap, straddling him, her legs coming around to meet behind his back. Her hands moved up his chest, around his neck and began pulling at his neck, her breaths short and laboured with a building requirement that she would not let him deny. "Nuts? I've thought of it too, and it's very..." she kissed him teasingly, demandingly, pulling back in between each word, but coming back at him hard, bruising almost. "Very...probable."

He raised his eyebrows slightly, his hands grabbing at her ass, pulling her in to him, his shaft teasing her entrance and then penetrating. The shower could wait a moment, she was too close as it was and he wasn't going to pass this moment up either. She began to gyrate into him, her breasts teasing his chest. It was slow and methodical, not at all what she had intended when she sat on him, but not at all unwelcome. He bent his head to capture a bouncing breast in his mouth, her left one seemed a bit more sensitive, he had noticed, but that didn't mean the other didn't require attention too. A moment later his hands were around her back and his face buried in the valley in front of him as she began to tremble in his arms, her walls contracting around him as she shuddered and a whimper of ecstasy escaped her. She continued to shake, and recover when she pulled back, the savouring the moment Hermione gone and a wild one taking its place. She was ferociously devouring his lips, practically tearing out his tongue in her wild search for his and sucking it in to her own mouth. They were still joined below. His hands roamed in searching circles over her body.

Then she stood up grabbing for the contraceptive potion bottle, but he took it from her and downed the swallow himself. They weren't done by any means. He extended his hand to her and pulled her to him, hard, with such force, their bodies slapped together. She groaned her excited pleasure, her arms around his neck as he lifted her at the waist and carried her lengthwise, matching him, to the bathroom, kissing her hard the entire way. His hand fumbled for the light, angry at being removed from her body for even the briefest of moments.

He almost slammed her against the wall, continuing to devour her with his mouth, leaving a trail of fire wherever is touched. She felt so incredible, a gush of fluid released from her lower body in expectation of entry. Suddenly she heard the shower running beside her. _How the hell had he managed that? _ He had her against the wall, his penis caught upright between them, his tongue darting into her ear; his breath hard, laboured, and amplified. It was as if she could hear what it would be like if her pussy could listen to the act of his entry into her. It sent shivers down her body, her arms and legs already quivering with need. There was no way a slow pace would develop here, she thought, this felt wild, abandoned, everything she had wanted to be to him, for him, with him to fulfill his fantasy as well as her own. Right now she wanted him in her so badly it hurt. Her mouth opened in expectation of a meeting. Hope seemed to be answered but his tongue was still in her ear. It was his finger that entered her mouth, began probing. Her lips closed around his finger and began sucking on it, eyes connected; it was driving him mad. His mouth couldn't have that for too long before it took over as his body crushed into hers.

She groped at him, roughly, raking her nails over him, leaving red marks on his back, igniting further a feral instinct in him. If she matched him, he would abandon himself. She was oddly grateful. Hermione knew how protective Ron could be, his family, Harry, and herself. He would protect her with his life, she knew it, but she didn't want him to be so careful of her as to not be the passionate being she had always felt lurking beneath. When he fought, he fought hard; she had hoped that when he loved it would be just as hard.

His hands moved to her backside, pulling her into him as he manoeuvred her over the edge of the tub and under the stream of warm water. He pushed her head under the water, it ran through her hair, matting it to her head, then he went through too and they met on the other side, soaking wet. Where the barrier was between sweat and water was unclear, as was any separate passion. They were together in their need for one another. Water trickled from the ends of her hair over her breasts, meandering its way down, causing her nipples to harden. The water, running into the hardened nubs did not seem to know which way to go. It traveled undecidedly back and forth on either side of her nipples, creating stimulating paths that his mouth had to follow. He latched on to one, sucking, pulling, nipping and teasing while his hand paid as much attention to the other breast as he could. Shivers shot through her body. "I fucking love your tits," was all he could manage in a husky voice.

They leaned through the waterfall again coming out the other side, turning roughly, he pinned her to the side wall of the shower, both being doused with the warm liquid as they continued. Her hands wound through his wet hair, pulling his face harder against her breasts, before she demanded he pay attention to her mouth again. She nipped at him, a dark lusty look in her eyes that dared him not to follow her wordless commands. She slammed against his mouth, entering his with such force; she fired his passion even more. She sucked his tongue completely into her mouth, the force of the suction so hard he could not have resisted if he wanted to. Her leg came up to pull his lower body closer if that was possible. She broke the kiss noisily and breathed hard, "I need your cock, Ron. I need your cock in me now. Fuck me, now!"

Immediately, he grabbed her by the ass, pulling her other leg up around his waist as he pushed her into the wall for additional support and entered her hard. She was more than ready for him. He began pumping and almost immediately she was whimpering in ecstatic delight as the fire began to build. She tightened her walls around him, gripping him internally. They did not kiss. Instead they watched each other's faces for signs that each was feeling a build up of glorious sensation, their eyes locked on one another reflecting the catching of their breaths and the quaking of their world below.

"Yes! Yes! There!" She leaned into him, her face burying in his neck as she melted in his shaking arms, his breaths in such short intakes, matching the speed of his thrusts into her. Something clicked; both could feel a change in the intensity not only of themselves, but in the other. Like an erupting volcano, the sparks flew through them both together as they let go completely and unleashed the fury of ecstasy.

Water continued to wash over them as they stood frozen to the wall, their faces buried in each other's necks. Tremors still wracked both for several moments afterward.

"Passionate enough to fulfill that fantasy, Sweetheart?" she breathed.

"Hell, yes!" he said as he caught his breath again.

"Fuck, Ron. That was incredible. Can we do THAT again?..."

He cut her off with a passionate kiss. "Anytime, gorgeous!" They continued kissing romantically this time, savouring the love and passion they had finally given all to. He set her down on her feet, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close.

"Hmm. I think I owe you one," she said as she indicated the shampoo bottle.

"I'm not keeping score, but go ahead," he smiled.

She poured some shampoo into the palm of her hand and rubbed them together briefly before raising her hands to his hair and her lips to his. Tongue and hands mirrored each other in the attention she gave him. She pushed him under the water and joined him there, finding it a bit difficult to breath but not really caring at that moment. He held her to him so lovingly she was not quite sure why she would need air when she had this. He moved them from the stream and opened his eyes to her. There was so much love reflected there her badly needed breath caught for a moment. This was it, she had absolutely everything she needed or wanted in a lover, friend, and partner.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Everything. I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

He laughed. "I think you need to change that term to woman. You are all woman. And I feel exactly the same way."

He caressed her face and his eyes went somewhere she could not follow. "What is it?"

He smiled and shook his head softly. "You know, years ago, when I looked into the Mirror of Erised, I saw myself as the hero: quidditch captain, head boy. Things I thought would make me happy if I was thought of that way by others, too many others. If I looked now, I would just see myself as I am, well clothed, I imagine." She laughed and continued to watch and listen. His hand came up to caress her other cheek. "I am loved by the most incredible woman I have ever met. I know what I am going to do, and I have your support. What more could I want?"

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him. "I do love you. More than I thought I was capable of."

He beamed and his lips captured hers again in a kiss that sent tingles to her toes. They continued bathing each other and exited the shower, helping each other to dry off. Hermione grabbed his wand that he left in the room the night before and pointed it at her hair. A gust of hot air blew out from its tip drying her long locks immediately. She turned the wand on him and dried his hair for him.

He grabbed her hand as she started to reach for the robe, his eyes denying her the garment. He had other things in mind.

"What have we done to each other?" gasped Hermione.

"I think that's fairly obvious!" said Ron, as he guided her backwards from the bathroom while kissing her. "We…are eighteen…lots of energy, and …

"Horny!" she finished laughing.

They tumbled together onto the bed and continued savouring each other when there was a severe knock on the door. "House keeping!"

They both looked to the door, having forgotten they had ordered more towels. Hermione rolled her eyes. She did not want to stop at this particular point. She was annoyed but was about to get up to answer the door, when she felt Ron shift his weight, block her, and reach for the floor. He put a finger to his lips so she wouldn't say anything and shook his head slightly. In his other hand he had the invisibility cloak and draped it over them, a grin on his face.

Hermione's eyes and mouth were wide open in shock, about to protest, when she heard the card key reader admit the house keeper into their room. It was too late to call out "Just a moment." He covered her mouth with his and they continued to move together under the cloak. Hermione was straddling Ron and was additionally sensitive to him in this position. It did not take long for him to bring her waves of pleasure. He could feel her thighs grip his sides as she climaxed.

The house keeper had two additional bath towels and placed them in the bathroom. She was about to leave when she noticed the extra supply shelf was missing the additional blanket that the hotel usually provided. Leaving the door wide open, she stepped into the hallway to her cart and retrieved the extra item. She came back into the hotel room and placed the blanket up on the shelf. She thought she heard a small squeal, and turned around to look in the empty room. Shaking her head, she moved towards the door and closed it behind her as she left. She made note of the depressed mattress and that she should put in a requisition for a replacement for this room.

"Don't you _ever_ tell Harry what we just used his cloak for," she panted.

"Agreed," Ron replied with a satisfied grin on his face.

oOo

A/N: I considered "Rabbits" for a title for this chapter too. Hahaha. In case you're wondering, they finally go see her parents in the next chapter, and Ron truly starts to come into his own as an adult.


	9. Reunion

**Chapter 9: Reunion**

"OK, there's the house, number 3. I'll wait back a bit. This is your reunion; you deserve your time alone," said Ron as he stuffed the invisibility cloak into a small navy blue backpack.

"No, Ron. Please come too. You're important to me."

His hand was immediately up caressing her face, letting Hermione know again without words how important she was to him too. "Yeah, but not to your parents," he paused, "yet," he added with a half smile. "When you're ready, just yell and I'll be there. I'll wait here at the gate. I'll be in earshot, I think." Something told him they should be alone as a family before he was introduced.

He looked over the huge house Wendel and Monica "Wilkins" had rented in Killarney Heights. It was a two story, contemporary structure of brown stucco, with double car garage inset on the main level. It was grand to him, something he could only dream of affording. The neighbourhood was quite upscale compared to anything he had ever visited, save for Malfoy Manor which had the look and feel of _don't touch anything_—not that he wanted to. He couldn't get out of that hell hole quick enough.

Hermione's parents were doctors, dentists in the Muggle world. They could afford a very comfortable house. They easily fit in here, he imagined. Hermione though, had never betrayed for an instant that she was uncomfortable at the Burrow. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She had always been eager to visit and stay whenever she had been invited, long before there was anything that was actually clicking between them, he thought. It would be a long time before he could contribute towards something like this for her, and that seemed to be okay somehow. However they chose to live, wherever, it would be something, perhaps a compromise that would make both feel comfortable, at ease, and not house poor.

Hermione leaned in for a hug and tilted her head up to Ron for a quick kiss, smiled and turned toward her parents' house. She could not think of it as their home, not under the circumstances of their being in Australia. One step toward them and she froze and turned back to Ron, a look on her face that he could not place for the life of him.

"What is it?" he asked concerned, his brow furrowing at the strange expression on her face.

"You. Me. Us. It's over."

"Whoa! Back the House Points up! Say again?"

"No, I mean, our time, just us, completely alone together, it's over."

"Oh," he smiled relieved.

"Ron, these have been the happiest four days of my life. I want you to know that."

"I know." It was a simple statement, not of arrogance but of complete agreement of feeling and thought on his side as well. Their eyes searched each other's for full comprehension and found it. He bent his head to her; she tilted hers up to him, their mouths opening to each other in expectation and fulfillment. One last moment where the world was shut out as their lips met, their bodies leaned into one another, arms encircling, taking and giving all that they required to be.

Feeling as though she had been enervated by the kiss and the warmth of his eyes as they took in her face, his fingers now tucking behind her ear an errant strand of hair that had caught in the light breeze, she took a step back from him and turned on her heel. She made her way to the door of her parents' home. As she walked through the open gate she thought of how Ron had been there for her when she had modified her parents' memories ten months earlier. It was all coming full circle. She looked back briefly at Ron and smiled when he gave her a thumbs up sign. She took a deep breath and rang the bell. She waited with baited breath, excitedly to see her parents for the first time in almost a year.

The door opened to reveal her father in front of her. Her mouth was suddenly dry.

"Yes?" he said wondering who this young woman was standing in front of him and what she wanted. She seemed a little confused, in a daze.

Hermione stared at him a moment and then recovered. She raised her wand to his puzzled look, removed the charm that made him and her mother forget they had a daughter and move to Australia under a new name.

"_Reverso Amnesia Hermione Granger!" " Appello Wendel Granger!" " Domus England!"_

Wendel Granger looked stunned for a moment and then staggered backwards briefly as the spells hit him and his conscious cleared of the original charms. He looked around at the home he rented with his wife in a confused manner. His eyes settled on Hermione and his mouth opened in shock to see her.

"Hermione!" He opened his arms to hug her and she moved forwards immediately and returned the embrace. Ron smiled from the side of the driveway, standing behind the pillar of the gate, feeling somewhat unneeded.

"Dad!" she said as she returned her father's hug and tears pressed her eyes.

There were times when she thought this day would never come—all those nights in the tent, lonely, depressed. When it rained she found no comfort in sitting at the tent's entrance the way she had always found when she and her parents would sit on their front porch bundled in blankets enjoying the magnificent display of a thunder shower. Wearing the locket Horcrux had made missing her parents worse, her shame at changing their lives without their permission that much more acute. She held on to her dad and so many feelings washed over her that she couldn't keep up with her own emotions. It was over, it was finally over. Voldemort was truly gone now for her.

Wendel Granger took a step back and looked at his daughter. Something was off. She looked different from the last time he had seen her. _Wait a moment. That was… last year_! He looked at his home and then at Hermione. He remembered this last year and wondered why it was so strange and not strange all at once. Here was Hermione, his daughter, whom he had not seen in so long and yet it was natural that he had not seen her. His eyes darted around as he tried to make sense of what was going on in his mind, seeing his daughter, but the surroundings did not match properly.

"I, I'm sorry Hermione. I'm a little confused right now and I don't know why." He leaned against the doorframe a moment, his hand coming up to his forehead, rubbing it as if the action would bring reason forward.

"Dad, I can explain. You know where you are, right?" She waited for his confirmation before she continued. "Last year Harry, Ron and I had to do a mission for Professor Dumbledore. It was a dangerous mission Dad, not only to us but to our families."

"Dumbledore? Dumbledore is dead isn't he?" he asked.

"Yes. At the time we believed Lord Voldemort had had him killed. But before it happened, Professor Dumbledore gave Harry enough training to be able to complete the mission he had begun. But it was dangerous, too dangerous for Harry to do by himself without help. Ron and I chose to help him. But to do so, we had to make sure our families were safe from Lord Voldemort."

She checked to make sure he had followed her so far. He seemed to be taking everything in okay for now, so she continued.

"I spread the rumour that I was going abroad with you and leaving Hogwarts. But, to make sure the rumour would work, I had you move here to Australia and that way you would be safe from him and his Death Eaters, his personal group of thugs, if you will."

"Move to Australia?"

"Yes."

"But, I wouldn't leave you. You're too young for us to leave."

"I know." She took a moment before she continued the hard part. "I put a spell on you. I made you forget that I existed. I had you convinced that your last name was Wilkins, and that your life's ambition was to move to Australia and that you wanted to fulfill that goal. You've been here almost a year."

Wendel Granger's mind was racing. All sorts of possibilities came to his mind as he looked at her and then far away in the distance. He saw Ron loitering at his gate. Anger began to seep through him.

"He put you up to this!" he said, shaking a pointing finger in Ron's direction. You would never have hurt us like that if he hadn't had you do it. Wizards! I knew we should never have let you go to that school! A year ! Of my life? Our life?"

"Hurt you? Dad, it was for your protection! Please understand!"

Just then Monika came to the front hall of the house and saw that her husband was agitated and a young girl was causing it.

"Is everything alright? Can I help you?" Monica Wilkins questioned her husband and the girl in front of her.

Anger rose in her father as he looked at his wife's unwitting face. She showed no recognition of her own daughter. It infuriated him more. "Change her back, Hermione! Change her back now!" he yelled.

Ron looked over to the raised voices with concern. Things were not going the way they had envisioned.

Hermione's mouth arched downwards as she flourished her wand, repeating the reverse chants and aimed them at her mother to remember that she was Monica Granger again and of the daughter standing in front of her.

As the spell took effect, Monica became cognisant of her daughter and reached for her to hug and hold on to, for some reason feeling it had been a long time since she had seen her. Then she released Hermione and looked confused.

Del Granger was furious. His daughter had used magic against them without their knowledge or consent. She had violated their trust. His mind searched further the implications of this act.

"Hermione, just what gives you the right to do what you did? We had lives in England! We had dental practices! We had employees who depended on us! We had patients, family, and friends! What the hell to do they all think happened to us? Did we just drop off the face of the earth as far as they are concerned? What?"

"I…" Hermione began, but could not finish.

"I don't understand," said Monica. "What has happened?"

"Our daughter, _the witch_, cast a spell on us to forget who we are and drop everything and move to Australia so she could…what? Drop out of school and go on some adventure with your friends without us interfering? Is that it?" The venom that spat from his mouth assaulted her.

Hermione visibly balked at the way her father said witch. To hear that kind of tone—it felt like Bellatrix Lestrange calling her Mudblood. The disdain in his voice bordered on the Death Eater's hatred without the lunatic fringe. Out of the corner of her eye she could see movement coming immediately toward her from the front of the property.

Her mother looked at her in shock and disappointment; her father's look of rage was insufferable.

"Hermione, is that true? Why would you do that to us? We trusted you," her mother said dejectedly.

"I tried to explain to Dad, Lord Voldemort would target you. He would have killed you. I had to keep you safe," she pleaded, her voice hiccupping.

Ron had heard the yelling at Hermione and had made his way to the doorway to defend her from her parents. He saw she was faltering and in shock. Then her father took one look at Ron and rounded on him.

"You! I remember you!" he spat. "The red hair, you're Ron! Are you responsible for this? Did you make her do this to us? We should never have let her go to that school!"

Ron had moved forward and taken Hermione's hand. Then he placed himself between Hermione and her father attempting to deflect the verbal barrage she was undergoing.

"Stop!" he said forcefully, his hand slicing through the air, cutting the man off. He continued calmly. "You know your daughter. She would never do anything to hurt you. What she did was to save your lives. Now she's here to make things right again. You're her family, she had to protect you. Is that part not sinking in? She didn't do anything to purposely hurt you."

"Ron," whispered Hermione, "I deserve this."

The look of defeat and submission on her face tore at him. "No, you don't. They are alive because of you," he reminded her.

Her father was pacing back and forth inside the entry, the double doors wide open, but Hermione was still outside. Her eyes followed him like a tennis match. She knew that pace. He was building up his argument where he was right and no one else would be heard until he calmed down. It was a side of him that did not come out often, but when it did, there seemed to be nothing he would ever listen to.

"There's no point in arguing right now. I'll come back tomorrow. He won't listen to reason." Hermione responded, holding on to Ron's arm.

Del Granger looked at his daughter in fury. Monica was obviously angry, but was also trying to figure out how to calm the situation.

"Del…" his wife said pleadingly.

"Don't Del me! She was wrong to do this, to interfere and take over our lives like that! She had no right," he spat.

Ron had had enough. "She had every right! A family protects each other! Hermione did what she felt was necessary to keep you alive! And when that sinks in, we'll be back to talk calmly about this. Come on." Ron grabbed hold of Hermione's hand and she turned to walk away with him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

At the end of the driveway, Ron pulled out the invisibility cloak and manoeuvred Hermione towards a large tree for cover. He placed the cloak over them and then turned on the spot and Disapparated with Hermione in tow to her parents' shock. They Apparated on to the Sydney Harbour Bridge where they had visited four days before. He brought her there because she enjoyed the view so much and he hoped it would be distracting to her.

Hermione looked around in a daze and then to Ron questioningly for a second and then decided she didn't care. He was protecting her from a verbal barrage from people who did not understand the full story. She collapsed into him and cried, her face buried in his chest. The arms she admired so much came around her, holding, protecting, supporting, and loving her until she was ready to talk. Soon she turned her head sideways and took in the view that felt so wonderful the other day and slowly calm returned to her. When no one was looking, he removed the cloak.

"They don't understand," she sniffled into his shoulder. The disparity between their worlds was becoming so clear to her. It had been happening ever since she went to Hogwarts. Her life was increasingly that of the Wizarding World where she could be who she was without hiding, up until Voldemort had taken power. Now that he was gone, she was free again. But prisons had different forms. Her parents trust and pride in her had always been a foundation of her upbringing, their love an unconditional mortar. Now the hurt, pain and anger in their eyes were like a wrecking ball smashing apart her heart.

"No, they don't understand. You're going to have to let them think about it a bit and calm down before anything more is said that can't be taken back."

They walked along the bridge silently, arms around each other and then Ron took her hand and Apparated back to their hotel room once they were behind a support beam and hidden from other sight seers briefly.

Hermione seemed to be in a confused daze. She looked around their little sanctuary, baffled. Seeing Ron brought the only light to her eyes. He helped her removed her jacket and guided her to the bed. He removed her shoes and crawled on the bed next to her and gathered her to him. She snuggled into him, his arms around her giving her the haven she needed. Hermione fell asleep, drained emotionally.

Ron's lips pursed, his teeth gritted as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He felt his stomach tense up and after thinking on it a while longer, decided his own anger added to the pot would not help right now, but he really did want to give them a piece of his mind. His gaze traveled to the girl asleep in his arms. His priority was here. How would he help her deal with this? He remembered when Percy had hurt them all so much when he disowned the family. Their mother had taken it especially hard. His father tried consoling her, despite his own disappointment. Arthur had prepared a bath for Molly to try and get her to relax. Maybe it would work for Hermione.

Later, when she woke up, Ron ordered her room service though she barely touched it. Then he prepared the bath for her, using the supplies provided by the hotel. She walked like a ghost, her face void of expression, to the bathroom and began to undress.

"It's not like I imagined. I imagined a wonderful reunion, not all this anger. I guess I'm a bit naïve."

"It'll happen. They've just got to have time to adjust," he said sympathetically. "Look, I'm going to give you some time alone, and take a walk around the hotel grounds for a bit. I'll be back soon. In the meantime, if I know you, your brain is going to go into high gear. So, do your thinking without feeling any pressure from me out in the other room waiting for you. I prefer to do my thinking outside, pace a bit or something, you know?"

She nodded. "Ron," she called him from the tub, reaching out to him.

"Yeah," he replied. Seeing her extended hand he moved forward to take hold of it and she squeezed his.

"Thank you. You've been just wonderful to me throughout all of this."

He gave her a funny look. "Well, what good would the alternative be?" he said trying to lighten her mood. He winked at her and then bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Love you. I'll be back in a bit."

She nodded her agreement, actually glad to be alone for a little while. For a second she thought of Ron as the door closed. He was really changing, becoming so much more considerate of her than she ever thought. His sarcasm had decreased while they were there, especially that directed at her. _I guess love can change people after all._ Then her thoughts turned to her parents and a shadow crossed her features. She began planning how she would explain everything in detail to them, hoping it would mend their relationship. Explanation would be one thing. How would she fix it?

Meanwhile, Ron made his way to the empty terrace again and Disapparated to her parents house. Despite his effort to the contrary, anger rose in his chest as he vanished.

oOo


	10. Reprimand

**Chapter 10: Reprimand**

If anyone had been sitting out and watching the goings on in the neighbourhood of Killarney Heights, they would have noticed a red haired young man suddenly appear behind a tree next to the road in front of the brown stucco contemporary home. Its sharp, angular features seemed to mirror the young man's mood. He moved with deliberation towards the glass fronted balconied house, only to suddenly pivot on his heel with the same forcefulness, and turn back to the road. He seemed to be wrestling with himself. He kicked the tree in frustration and began pacing. Sometimes he sat down on the bench beside the bus stop a few houses down from the site of his sudden appearance, but mostly he walked back and forth, his hands gesturing in the air as if he was talking to someone.

_I'm not going in there angry. I am not going in there angry. Walk, just walk it off a minute. A plan, Hermione would say I need a plan._

Ron's mood was fowl and he was aware of it. Seeing the house again brought all the yelling to his mind again—the way her father has spoken to Hermione. He had seen her flinch, the light in her eye dim just that little bit. He has seen it before if he was honest and he himself had done it to her. The night he stalked away from her, leaving her alone with Harry. He turned away from her in anger, doing something he never would have had he not been so over the top emotionally and psychologically due to the effects of the locket. He would be damned if he let her down again. He would not go in there just to let off simmering steam and feel better.

_Okay, put myself in his shoes a moment. Why did he act the way he did? Obviously he was hurt, felt betrayed, handled... lied to, and distrusted, like he let people down back home without a choice in the matter, loss of control...hmm, of his leadership of his family...Did Muggle males feel like the leaders in their families? Did he feel like his balls had been cut off? He may usually be a mild, mannered dentist, but he's still a man, isn't he? Oh, Merlin's shit._

He sat on a bench two houses away for a moment, raking his hand through his hair roughly, his eyes searching the sky. Hermione's voice echoed in his head again. Sometimes it was so annoying when she was right. It would feel so good to just walk in there and yell at the man. But he needed to put this in perspective no matter how often his mind came back to the emotional release he wanted to let off.

When it had something to do with the mission, Hermione would want to plan it out on parchment if she could. Well, he had no parchment with him, so imagining his points, numbering them off on his fingers, gesturing here and there as he sorted out his thoughts would have to do. He preferred thinking that way compared to Hermione, a subtle difference between them that she did not understand. She was a linear thinker, compartmentalizing or chunking everything in some way. Abstract thinking was definitely not her strong suit. Luna came to mind all of a sudden—whoa, night and day, those two. He waved off Luna from his head and focused back on Hermione. He'd watched her do her homework often over the years, been the beneficiary of it too. The method worked for her, but it baffled him. She colour coded, or grouped things in varying categories before deciding on which format suited her. He would shake his head at the additional strain she put on herself when completing assignments. It did get results though, he had to admit.

He sighed, thinking of past assignments. Little missions set by teachers, following a curriculum that he often wondered if they truly cared for having to give students. Was an essay on Preferred Methodology of Divination really that important? Or was it the process itself they were truly after? Well, not with Trelawney, he thought. If so, why couldn't he write on a topic that actually interested him? Hmmm... _The effects on the male population of Hogwarts on the arrival of the girls from Beauxbatons_. He laughed slightly to himself wondering how in the world his thoughts had gone there. But that was how it was with him. He let his mind go when under stress until he was a little more relaxed and then tackled the job after a mental vacation. That was usually when Hermione happened upon him, in the middle of a daydream before he settled in. She would shake her head at his procrastination, make some condescending comment, and then help direct his thinking.

Now in a slightly better frame of mind, he got back on track. The mission. It wasn't over. This was part of it and he had to honour that and put it in its place. He had to step back from the anger that had gripped his stomach. He owed it to Hermione. He had to understand her parents' hurt if he was going to get through this without giving her father a piece of his mind. He stood up and paced back and forth again, his steps a little lighter now. He took in a deep breath and calmed himself. These could very well be his future in-laws. _Whatever you say Wealsey_, he cautioned himself, _be careful_. He took about ten minutes before he felt ready to go. Arguments in his head, reasons clarified and explained to his satisfaction, he felt prepared to meet them again and keep his cool. He turned on his heel and walked with confidence through the clear glass gate that matched the second floor balustrade. His eyes focused on the large double chocolate brown doors he was approaching and reached out, paused for half a second and rang the bell.

He thought he was composed, but the moment the door opened and Del Granger saw him a scowl threatened to cross his features, but composure won out. The same could not be said for the older man. Obviously, Ron was not the person he expected at the door and he had no trouble letting him know it.

"What the hell are you doing here? Haven't you caused enough trouble in our family's lives?"

Ron raised a pitying yet condescending eyebrow at him. "The trouble was caused by Voldemort, not me. If you're going to be angry, you might as well be angry at the right person." Detecting not a hint of compromise coming from Hermione's father, he changed course. "Look, do you want to have this discussion outside where all your neighbours can hear, or shall you invite me in?"

Wendel Granger acquiesced reluctantly and stood back to let Ron enter. He had been gearing up for a fight, not trying to make sense of it all. He was the wronged party here. His life had been turned upside down, his right to his decision making taken from him. He had focussed on everything that would have gone wrong in their lives because of these spells. He and Monica had barely spoken. She was too much the fence sitter, the peace maker. Right now, Del wanted to be angry. Taking it out on Ron would be better than Hermione.

"So, have you enjoyed your time in Australia? Hermione told me you always wanted to visit here?" He attempted a pleasantry as Monica walked into the foyer hearing her husband's angry voice. She took note of Ron's presence without her daughter.

Del was about to tear into Ron. As he opened his mouth, Monica cut him off and motioning for Ron to enter further into the house, to take a seat. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Uh, yeah, that would be great," he said, glad that someone was willing to be civil. Her presence might be a really good thing as the men had it out.

"Please do not begin until I've returned. I have a right to be here too." She looked pointedly at her husband.

Ron let out a deep breath and sat down where Monica indicated in the sitting room. Del sat in a chair opposite Ron, glaring at him. The young man attempted a little small talk; trying to fill the silence.

"You know, Australia has a very large population of magical people. It was a penal colony for a long time. Many were sent here for bizarre behavior, perceived crimes; Muggles not knowing of course what it was exactly. Usually they tried to burn us at the stake if they figured it out. But many witches and wizards still had their wands on them and played along with defensive charms that would protect them from the fire. Just a little bit of history," he finished sheepishly.

He rubbed his hands together and pursed his lips. Del Granger was unmoved by the attempted civility. Ron shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked around the room absent mindedly, trying to fake interest in the décor. "Nice place," he tried. Still, Del sat impassively, arms crossed tightly in front of him.

Monica heard him from the kitchen and commented as she prepared the tray of tea. "Yes, it is rather," she called in a slightly raised voice so she could be heard in the next room. "Although, it's not actually a style of home either of us would choose. We came here so quickly. We got in touch with a real estate company here regarding furnished houses that were immediately available for rent. We did not know the neighbourhoods either, since we had not done any prior scouting, so the realtor actually chose the area. It is very nice. The Spanish tile here is nice throughout, but Del complains that it is cold on his feet. I, personally, like it but it is hard on my back when I'm in the kitchen any length of time."

"You sound like my mum. She has trouble with her back sometimes too, especially during holidays when there's so much food to prepare. We have a large family, so when everyone's home or passing through, she spends a lot of time cooking. Magic does help lessen the time spent though."

Monica smiled at him. Whatever the circumstances of their being in Australia, she just couldn't dislike this young man. And he seemed to be here offering an olive branch. She worried about Del though. He had been brooding for a few hours now. The conversation seemed to grind to a halt. She could feel the young man losing his desire for small talk under her husband's annoyed gaze. She had to give him credit. He sat in the room with Del staring at him for five minutes. She would have bolted at that age, she thought. Finally ready, Monica entered the sitting room with the tea and light cookies and served it. Ron no longer took sugar in his tea—a luxury he had had to give up while on the run. Now he was used to the taste change. He took one sip and set the cup down. It was almost as if someone rang a bell to begin a sparring match. Del turned on Ron as soon as he let go of the cup.

"Alright, I've held this in long enough. Just, who the hell are you to come here? You who probably convinced our daughter to do this crime against us? This violation of our minds! Can you possibly understand what you have done to our lives? To completely disappear! What about our home, the bills, mortgage, our neighbours? Our practice? People depended on us! For _their_ livelihood, _they_ depended on _us_. What happened to them? Family? Friends? What about them? We just up and disappeared the way you two did earlier? Do we have a credit rating anymore to get started again? What? Did you teenagers even stop to think of the extended ramifications of your actions?" He had risen to his feet as his voice rose.

"Del," came Monica's voice, trying to be peace maker, though she agreed with every question that came out of her husband's mouth. She looked at Ron, wanting to know these answers too.

Ron stood up to match Hermione's father. He would not be intimidated when Hermione was not wrong to have protected them. After the Battle for Hogwarts, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny had gone to check out her parents' home. It was under the care of a property management service, but they only managed the exterior. When they entered the dwelling, it was obvious the Death Eaters had been there. The place had been torn apart inside. The four of them spent the day repairing tears in the chesterfield, chairs, beds and curtains and everything else. The next day they cleaned the home from top to bottom and then Ron and Hermione replaced her likeness in family portraits and picture albums, page by page. It was slower work to put the right pictures back together than it had been to remove her from everything. But as they did so, Hermione's spirits were lifted as she came one step closer to resurrecting her life. He thought briefly of the day they went to check on the house.

oOo

_Flashback_

The four friends held hands together as Hermione twisted and took them into the darkness of Apparition. The bands compressed them as they held their breath and trusted Hermione to get them to their destination in one piece. She was still the best at Apparition, especially side-along. Ginny had learned to Apparate, but had not done side-along Apparition yet in her Saturday morning course at Hogwarts. Now it looked like she might not get that instruction formally as the school was in shambles and shut down and all students returned home early following the battle.

Suddenly the compression ended and they all Apparated into the sitting room of the Granger's home. It was dark and in the slivers of light that filtered in between the hastily closed curtains, they could see the dust particles floating in the air. They could also see the room was a complete and utter mess.

Hermione took a step forward and heard glass cracking beneath her foot. She froze and looked down. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness despite the early morning, she began to see the destruction about her. Underfoot was her parents' wedding picture. Her hands came up to her cover her mouth as she inhaled in horror.

Ron let go of Ginny's hand and turned completely to Hermione. He grabbed both of her upper arms and reassured her, "They're alright! Remember? They are in Australia, Hermione. This is exactly why you had them go away," he said as he pulled her to him, his arms coming around her instantly to calm her. Hermione had begun to cry almost hysterically. "Shhh," Ron crooned to her. "Shhh. They are okay. You did the right thing. You were right to protect them."

Ginny had frozen in shock at the malicious devastation in front of them, but Harry had moved to the ripped curtains and opened them up. Light assaulted them and they scrutinized the complete destruction of the place.

"_Homenum Revelio_!" Harry said as he flourished his wand. He had to be sure. "There, no one here but us. They didn't leave anyone behind to capture you if had come here. Even if they did, he probably would have had to obey Voldemort's order to go to Hogwarts and get me."

"Oh, my God! Where do I start?" Hermione exclaimed as she recovered and moved out of Ron's embrace but not before a grateful glance at him.

"You mean, where do _we_ start? Let's all begin with repairing this room first, and then we'll move to the kitchen, then the bedrooms. Come on Hermione. Let's get to work so your parents have a home to come back to," Ginny said supportively.

Hermione looked at them all. "Thanks guys. I didn't expect this. I thought they would come, look, and leave. But this…this is just malicious," she said looking around defeated.

"Right then, let's get to work," Ron said. He patted her shoulder in support, hoping to bring out Hermione's well known determination.

She tore her eyes from the slashed piano to look at the matter of factness that came from Ron steady gaze. She could stand there and dwell on the destruction, or do something about it. She chose the latter. "Right. Let's get to work."

oOo

"Stop!" Ron raised his voice enough to be heard over Del Granger. "Not once here did you even ask about your daughter! Not once did you even stop to think what kind of danger she was in to _have_ to do this to you! I see where your priorities are. Ours in the wizarding world revolve around family for the most part."

"This was not a random decision on Hermione's part. Now, sit down, shut up and let me explain." He looked at her parents with a sudden forcefulness and determination that was not to be quelled.

"I know Hermione told you about Lord Voldemort and the kind of power he wielded in the Wizarding World."

"Yes, but he's dead, isn't he?" Monica questioned.

"No, not when this began." He motioned to the house surrounding them. "Let me go back a bit for it all to make sense. His physical body was dead, but his soul remained alive and in this world. It did not go On, I guess you could call it." His hands moved in a forward motion from his elbows, simultaneously. "He was the most powerful wizard ever and he was evil, power hungry, and a racial supremacist. He found a way to come back to life, to take corporeal form. You see, he had tried to kill Harry when he was just a baby, leaving a lightening bolt scar on his head."

"Yes, yes, we are well aware of the Boy-Who-Lived story," Del interrupted, remembering the special scar on Hermione's friend.

"No, you're not, or you wouldn't have just said it so matter of factly. The fact that Harry lived is beyond extraordinary. It's supposed to be completely impossible. But the scar wasn't just any scar. His mother had sacrificed herself to save Harry and that act put some kind of shield around him that deflected the spell and it, the killing curse, bounced back on Voldemort and killed his body. But part of his soul entered Harry, leaving the scar behind as evidence. Very few people understood this." As he told the story, Ron was surprised how easy it was to say the Dark Lord's name. All those years of fear and not saying it, and then the taboo against say it out loud, had been erased.

"The part of Voldemort's soul that entered Harry was mostly undetectable until Voldemort regained a physical body, 13 years later using some pretty nasty dark magic. Then Harry began having headaches that were really severe, and he knew whenever the Dark Lord was angry at something. He had a connection to Voldemort's mind that no one else had. He knew things that seemed impossible to know." He decided to omit the prophecy; that would complicate matters right now. "Because of it, Harry became a target of Voldemort and in a way Dumbledore too, you could say. Dumbledore had begun a mission to destroy Voldemort, but was killed in the process. The details there aren't important to Muggles. But, Dumbledore passed along information to Harry so that he could finish the job because _only_ Harry would be able to. Harry had the connection. Harry didn't have a choice."

"Now, tell me about your daughter, the daughter you know and love. Describe her to me."

Del Granger was taken aback. He shook his head, not understanding where Ron was going with this.

"Well, the Hermione we knew," he accentuated the past tense. "She was brilliant, loving, loyal, friendly, articulate, caring, fair minded, and a little odd in her interest in absolutely everything. We couldn't keep up with her desire for knowledge, she was brilliant."

"Exactly," Ron said. "So why is it so difficult for you to believe that she did this _for_ you out of love? That is exactly the daughter you raised and the girl I know. She would never do anything to hurt you. She loves you and her sole aim was to protect you and keep you alive." He decided to sit down now that they were calmer and Hermione was the topic for a moment. Both sides seemed to relax.

"She didn't enter our world and we took her over. She is what she is, a witch. She is now part of our world, more so than yours. She knows that. You gave birth to her, not someone in our world. Somewhere in one of your ancestries there is a witch or wizard. That magic gene resurfaced in Hermione. It is what and who she is. If she chooses not to use it, to not let the magic out, it could drive her mad. You see, she doesn't have the choice you seem to think she does."

"I don't understand," said her mother, encouraging him to go on with his explanation.

"Harry took on the mission. Hermione and I knew about it and decided to help. He was about to take on probably the greatest wizard to have ever lived, maybe with the exception of Dumbledore who at least was good. Hermione is loyal to a fault as you say. She and I knew Harry would need help. With her brains, and well, basically an extra pair of hands from me for missions, we worked to take down the Dark Lord for about 10 months in secret. By doing this we knew that if Voldemort and his followers found out, they would target our families to get to us, and ultimately, to get to Harry. I took precautions for my family, and Hermione did the only thing she could think of to keep you safe in the Muggle world. She didn't do it easily. It hurt her to do it to you, believe me. She cried for a week afterwards."

He waited to see comprehension come into their faces before he continued. "Anyway, this was an extremely dangerous mission. The people we were up against had sent so many families into hiding. People were after not only us, but anyone who was not of a pure-blood magical family. Hermione cast the spells on you towards the end of July. Within a week, the Dark Lord had taken over the Ministry and all hell broke loose. The last normal thing we did together was attend my brother Bill's wedding. Then Voldemort's people attacked during the reception and we barely escaped. If we had not gone with Harry at that moment, as friends of Harry's we would have been taken captive immediately. We would have been tortured and killed on the spot, I'm sure of it. Evading capture was top priority. We were positive they would have come after you to get Hermione to talk. In fact, I know they did." At their looks of concern, Ron added, "We went to your house. It was ripped apart inside. We spent two days repairing the damage to your home before we came here to get you." The proper look of shock and disgust appeared on their faces. Ron felt he was making headway and continued. "Anyway, the three of us went on the run together, not an adventure, to save our own lives as much as to take down the Dark Lord. There would be no true living with him in power for anyone, not even those of pure blood status who actually believed his crap, if they thought about it. True freedom was gone for all."

"At one point we _were_ captured, about six or seven weeks ago." Ron's eyes focussed on the floor and pain etched his features as he explained what happened to their daughter. "One of Voldemort's lieutenants tortured Hermione simply because she was Muggle born." He swallowed with difficulty and went on. He could not look at them for this. It disturbed him too much if he thought about it. "It was hell until we could rescue her. Her screams... are not something I will ever forget." He was shaking his head, his voice had gone so low, and he was barely audible.

Monica Granger watched Ron's face as he spoke about her daughter's ordeal. The emotions were raw indeed and very close to the surface. She was horrified by what she heard. So too was this young man in front of her who lived through the experience with Hermione. Though he looked down as he told about the torture, she could read his face, his body language. He was in love with her daughter; the boy Hermione had always talked about as totally annoying but with a heart of gold was in love with her daughter. She had assumed Hermione actually cared about him but was trying to hide it all these years with her sarcastic remarks about him. Now, she was convinced. How could her daughter not be in love with a boy who looked as though he would lay down his life to protect her?

His eyes changed as something occurred to him. "Maybe, you should understand a little of what happened to your daughter, what she tried to shield you from."

Ron stood up and pulled his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at Del Granger. "_Minimus Crucio!_" Hermione's father experienced a two second burst of the _Cruciatus Curse_ at 10% strength. He doubled over on the chair and rolled out of it on to the floor. Monica darted after her husband, terrified, forgetting her earlier charitable thoughts of the red haired young man in front of her.

Ron moved to help pick up Mr. Granger from the floor.

"You're mad! Get out of my house!" Monica yelled in anger mixed with terror.

Ron ignored the command and continued to help Hermione's father up and then went back and sat on the arm of his chair, giving them distance. His intent was not to intimidate only to instruct. "Sorry. I am not mad." He put his wand away, making sure they saw the action. The pain returned to his features as he shifted uncomfortably at what he had just done. He continued his account.

"Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, that is the type of torture your daughter suffered to keep you safe, to keep you alive. They used the full strength form of that curse on her. What you just experienced was only a tenth of the intensity Hermione endured—for about twenty minutes or so and almost constantly. Don't you understand? People like that wouldn't have cared that you knew so little of our world. You were Muggles. To them, you were a target, a tool to be used, tortured and left for dead when they considered you of no use to them. They don't see you as human beings."

The Grangers stared at Ron in shock, the blood draining from their faces. Their eyes checked in with one another and the veil of shame in one was mirrored in the other.

Ron recovered his trembling voice, "Harry and I got her out of there, but we came so close to losing her. For what you just felt, again I'm sorry, but you need to understand how bad things were, and the lengths the girl you brought up would go to, to help bring about justice and keep you out of harm's way.

"I'm, uh, in love with your daughter. I am part of her life, she is part of mine. That is not negotiable unless _we_ decide that to be the case." He pause a moment making sure they understood how much their relationship had changed. "I hope we can be friends, I really do. But it is not necessary if you continue to treat her the way you did this morning. Yes, you were sorely inconvenienced. But you are alive thanks to her, remember that."

The Grangers looked at each other; feeling like they were the children caught doing something wrong and being scolded for it. Ron got up to leave. "By the way, war broke out; Harry did kill Lord Voldemort and set the wizarding world free. We came here to remove the memory charms as soon as we finished with ministry interrogations and the many funerals of our friends and family members we lost in the battle, including my brother, Fred."

The Grangers remained quiet, not sure what to say.

Ron reached into his jeans pocket and retrieved a business card. "If you want to talk to Hermione, this is the hotel information. If you are just going to torture her more, then I suggest you leave her alone. I will protect her, even from you if I have to. I mean that." He looked them both directly in the eyes and the intensity of his features left them no doubt that he would do anything for their daughter.

Monica began to get up off the floor to take the card he offered. As her knees fought against the sudden shift in weight she winced and Ron immediately extended a helping hand without thinking that she might be affronted after what he had just done to her husband. Their eyes met and Monica's gaze reflected only kindness and gratefulness towards the young man.

With the closer proximity to Hermione's mother, Ron noted the brown eyes in front of him looked very familiar. His features softened immediately. "Thanks for the tea," he said sincerely. He glanced at the barely touched cup, removed his wand from his sleeve and then turned on the spot in front of them and Disapparated.

oOo

**A/N: **The house is an actual house in Killarney Heights that I found on a realty site. Average selling price for the neighborhood is $840 000(Australian dollars, obviously.) If I knew how to upload a picture, I would. Actually, I'm not sure FFN lets you do that. I admit wholeheartedly to being technologically challenged.

I went with Hermione's description of her parents names as Monica and Wendel Wilkins, keeping those first names from Deathly Hallows. Why not? However, I know a Wendel, and he goes by Del, so that played a role in the shortened name. Apologies if I've forgotten to convert over to American spellings consistently. I'm sure I've forgotten one or two things along the way, but just don't see them as Canadian spellings are obviously natural to me.

One more chapter to go: Reconciliation—sort of gives it away, huh?


	11. Reconciliation

**Chapter 11: Reconciliation**

A/N: Yikes! This is the longest chapter I've ever written! I hope the flow is alright, because I could not get through even one single read without someone interrupting me. It took on a new life when I had to set up some new stuff, because...I lied. Sorry. I had an idea the other night for another chapter so this isn't the end. It took me a little longer to re-work this one in order to accommodate it. Thanks for your patience waiting for this one. Technically I could end it here. Now I just want them to go home—Repatriation.

Thanks for the encouraging reviews. I seriously do need them. Notice how long it takes me in between to put a chapter up with sex in it. Nerves! And don't worry to those who were so upset at Ron's use of the Cruciatus. Ron will have some explaining to do on that score, and I think you'll feel better. Well, I hope so.

Additional scene at the end of this chapter—the original draft ending which is now on the "cutting room floor". When I wrote it, it made me laugh so I just wanted to share it since no one will see it again.

oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO

Ron returned to the hotel, hoping that his talk with Hermione's parents had the desired effect. He paused at the door to their room, turned into the wall and bowed his head against it. Plaguing him was the fact that he had just performed the Cruciatus on quite possibly his future father-in-law. That was probably not the best way to re-introduce himself into their lives.

"Shit," he mumbled to the wallpaper. "What the hell did I just do?" He shook his head, angry at himself for not planning out his whole speech better. Well, he had planned but he let emotion take over once her screams echoed in his mind. Planning….now he sounded like Hermione. She really was rubbing off on him. She would have a plan for the next encounter, he was sure.

He inserted his card key into the reader to open the door to their room and looked around. Hermione was not in sight. He checked the bathroom, the tub was empty. He had begun to worry a little when he heard her call from the balcony.

"Out here!" she called.

Ron went out to meet her. "Hey, sweetie." He bent down to her to give her a kiss before settling into the chair next to her, grabbing her hand. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

She shrugged. "A little I think. The bath helped. Thank you. How did you know?"

"I'm psychic."

She smirked. "I've been watching for you." She motioned to the grounds below, and then the road that led to the bridge. "I didn't see you at all. Where did you go?"

"Oh, here and there. Paced for a bit, sat for a bit." That was true at least, he thought. "It's kinda cool out. How long have you been out here? Your hand is freezing. You want a blanket?" He looked back at the coffee maker unsatisfied. "Cup of tea?" How come tea made things so much better, more palpable? Even though he only had a sip at the Grangers' just minutes ago, the whole process had served to calm the tense mood. He thought of Hermione's mother briefly and looked back at Hermione's matching orbs.

Her eyes brightened. "There's a kettle and tea in the first cupboard beside the fridge. "Sounds nice," she smiled. He got up and went back inside and fetched the blanket first, making her stand up as he wrapped it around her and then added his own embrace. She couldn't help but smile at his behaviour. _God, I could get used to this._ Their eyes met lovingly and his mouth descended on hers, but the claim was not one sided. She owned him just as much, she thought. It wasn't a deep kiss, but it wasn't a quick peck either. It lasted long enough to give her the sensation of how deeply he felt for her but that he did not need to take her body every time he touched her. She could feel she meant so much more to him than that. Simply being together, enjoying the other's company was still very much the essence of their connection. Sex, as incredible for them as it turned out to be, was icing on the cake. If it had nothing to be spread on to, it would have melted and slipped off as soon as the heat of climax was reached. Their relationship had layers indeed. Years and years together, shared history, friends, fears, laughter, and daily grind. They had years of dining together, small talk, bickering and arguing that they overcame because in the end nothing was more important than the friendship at the bottom of it.

His eyebrows wagged a moment as a thought came to him. With a twinkle in his eye, he tightened the white blanket around her like a mummy, tucking in the top at the back of her neck. He amused himself as he watched her try to sit back down in the chair. He smirked proudly at her efforts and tried to keep in a full laugh. The memory of Fred and George ganging up on him in their hotel room in Egypt came to mind. They had grabbed him and rolled him head to toe in sheets from the beds almost to the point of his not being able to breathe. He never told Harry or Hermione about that. He was too humiliated at not being able to fight back against his big brothers. They were just having fun with him, he knew, but he didn't like having his head covered. He kept that in mind when he wrapped Hermione.

She rolled her eyes at him. _Will he ever not try to tease me in one way or another_? She hoped not; it was part of what endeared him to her. She couldn't help but laugh lightly at her situation and the gotcha type look on his face, his eyes much too alight with mischief. She struggled a bit to loosen the blanket so that she could sit again and shook her head in exasperation. A smile spread across her face and into her eyes for the first time in hours.

"Ron, you are my tower of strength when I need that extra little bit. Thanks love," she looked up at him from her chair.

He smirked and put on an over the top deep charismatic voice, jutting his jaw out slightly. "Yeaaaah, I put the RON in STRONG, baby!" Then he flexed his bicep, not visible through his sweater.

Hermione's eyes widened, trying to contain her mirth, but her cheeks started to puff up and she lost her battle to contain her laughter. The dam burst and she howled her reaction to him.

He laughed at his own self-humiliation, but especially her reaction. Happy he got not just the smirk from a moment before, but a full smile on her face and laughter too, he went back inside and made them some tea, but used his wand to heat the water quicker. Electricity was convenient, but really slow he thought. He brought the tea out to her on the balcony and they sipped it silently. He watched her; he could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. He turned his eyes to the vista in front of him and waited until she was ready to talk. She leaned into him over the arms of their chairs and put her head on his shoulder, the blanket loosened so that she could have use of her arms.

Finally, Hermione spoke in a low voice. "I've attempted to contact Kingsley Shacklebolt through the Ministry here. They thought I was quite presumptuous to be asking to converse with the Minister of Magic of Great Britain directly. Took them a while to understand I was a friend of his in need of assistance. I told them I was tying up loose ends for him down here and hadn't expected to run into a problem that required his approval and suddenly had to speak with him. They certainly knew about Voldemort and when I explained who I was I could hear myself being called "Harry Potter's assistant" when they spoke to someone else. Well, that opened doors. Can you believe that? Even down here!" She raised her head off his shoulder to look at him for the last part.

Ron looked at her incredulously. "Really?" She nodded. He wondered what she had in mind. He took a sip of his tea and waited for it to come out.

"Dad was right." Ron was about to object when she made a motion not to be interrupted. "His and Mom's reputations would have been damaged, possibly beyond repair by disappearing like that. Getting their practice going again might prove terribly difficult and I've made it so they might not be able to support themselves and live the way they want. I doubt they would actually want to stay in Australia. The immigration papers wouldn't be through this quick, I'm sure, if they had started the process to migrate here permanently."

"Anyway, I've been trying to come up with a plausible explanation for family, friends, co-workers, and clients to believe. I think if Kingsley can manage to persuade the prime minister to explain their disappearance as a matter of witness protection then it might work. Well, perhaps not explain, but convince Scotland Yard to say they had taken them into hiding and given them temporary identities until their safety could be guaranteed, then maybe people would be... forgiving. If they won't do it willingly, I was going to ask Kingsley to allow the _Imperius Curse_ on whoever is necessary to get it done. Orrrrr, whatever spell they used to have Muggles turn away when they got close to the World Quidditch Cup grounds—use that spell to just make patients resume their schedules without questioning Mum and Dad's disappearance."

"We've had a year of _Unforgiveable Curses_ without tracking. It's a good thing to need permission to use them again, even if it is to benefit someone. I think that could work Hermione," Ron said supportively.

"I hope so," she shrugged. "I'm drawing a blank otherwise. But, it would be nice to have something to do damage control with the next time I see my parents."

"There was one thing I did that really bothered me before I erased their memories. I went to the office and altered their paperwork, their letterhead to be a neighbourhood office, not the Granger Group. I implanted a spell to have the office manager look for a locum to replace them on a temporary basis. That one did not include anything on whoever replaced them obviously, so they might have left the practice. I just don't know about that one. But they have full free will, if they weren't happy working there they could leave. I hope they stayed."

He reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "There's another gerbil running around in there. I can see it. You're still not settled even with what you've told me."

She made a face that acknowledged his assessment of her. "I wonder when I should attempt to talk to them again. Tonight, or give them a night's sleep on it? I don't think I can sleep tonight." She leaned her head on his shoulder again and sighed.

"How would you feel if they did stay here, in Australia?"

"Oh, I don't think I would care for it, but it is their decision and I guess I set the ball rolling on that one. I would miss them—a lot. Would it serve me right?"

"You act as if what you did was to harm them when you put it that way. You know that was not the case, so stop beating yourself up over it. Besides, if the day comes where you do have kids, with me or not," he stopped when he noticed her jerk. "I'm not taking this between us for granted. What we want now may change during the course of this. I hope not, I really do. Anyway, I would bet they would come back to England to be part of their lives. Well, I figure they would from what you've told me about them—your mum especially. She seems nice, from my limited exposure." He tried to cover a bit there.

"Ron? My dad isn't normally like that. The way he yelled, how he treated you—that's not him. Just goes to show how much I threw him for a loop. He's usually quite nice. I've only seen him get angry like that one other time."

As Hermione finished her sentence, they heard a knock at their door. Both scowled questioningly. "Who could that be? I was sure I'd get an answer by phone," she said thinking of Kingsley.

Both got up to go back in their room and closed the sliding door to the balcony behind them. Ron went to the door and looked through the peep hole. Shock registered on his face and he turned to back to her.

"Hermione, it's your parents," he said apprehensively.

She returned his look, her stomach tightened as she prepared herself for the onslaught. She set her tea on the desk alongside his cup, discarding the blanket on the end of unused bed. She nodded, "Okay, open the door, please." For a brief moment, she wondered how they knew where she was. He did as she requested and allowed Del and Monica Granger into their room. Ron caught Del's eye a moment and flashed a warning at the older man, making sure he understood he would not tolerate this morning's display of attitude toward Hermione.

Del studied Ron a moment taking in the fact that this young man had answered the door. They were not in separate rooms. He looked him over. Apart from the red hair that was distinctive, he had blue eyes that were deep and penetrating. He could bore a hole into your soul, he thought, as he met an appraising gaze that he found mildly interesting. It was as if he was assessing his need to protect, his chest puffing up slightly, his shoulders squaring. Ron seemed to grow an inch as he straightened his posture completely.

Del was a bit put out that this boy would look so condescendingly at him, but his earlier visit really had made an impact. He had said he loved Hermione, defended their choice boldly almost. If there was one thing Del was sure of it was that. It was in every move he made as he neared his daughter. The young man's long strides to get to her when he had yelled that morning were direct and he had stood tall beside her. He had come back, alone to face him and to explain Hermione's plight, and he defended her and revealed their last year on the run to him and her mother. He had been there with her. Had any special feelings been apparent before such an ordeal, they would be clarified now. They had gone through a battle together. That kind of closeness made it inevitable for people to set themselves straight in what they wanted out of life. That direction was obviously very clear for them. They had gone through episodes where they could have lost each other; they would have been desperate to clarify their feelings for one another. It was only natural. If the young man before him had gone through that, had everything for him rearranged in an instant of absolute fear, likely when his daughter was being tortured, how could he argue that they were too young to be getting this deeply involved? He would risk losing Hermione if he did. Damn, he hated it when Monica was right.

Tense hellos were exchanged all round. Hermione stood in silence beside the chair in front of the desk, and awkwardly motioned to the couch for them to sit. Monica did not sit down, but moved to the other side of the coffee table and stood between it and the couch after hugging her daughter briefly. Hermione had stiffened to her touch, unsure what to expect.

Ron awkwardly indicated the mugs on the desk the he and Hermione had put there. "Uh, we were just having some tea. Would you care for some?" he offered. A unanimous chorus of no thank you was received. Monica looked at him and smiled. They had exchanged positions of peace maker.

Ron was torn. He felt he should leave them alone, but if they were about to yell at Hermione he could not leave. Deciding to offer anyway and stand outside the door listening if needed would be a good compromise, he thought.

"Maybe I should leave you all to talk." He glanced pointedly at Hermione's father who understood this young man's look immediately. As if he needed some boy to tell him how to treat his daughter. Then Del thought of his verbal assault earlier that morning and reprimanded himself. Apparently, he did need the reminder.

All three in the room said "No. Ron, stay."

Then Del added, "If you're as close as I think you are," he said glancing around the room, his eyes landing uncomfortably on the one bed that obviously hadn't been touched, "Then you are a part of this too."

Hermione saw the realization in her father's eyes that they were lovers now. She moved to stand beside Ron and took his hand. "Yes, he is," she said proudly, assertively. Both took support from each other in the small hand squeeze. Then Hermione let go, ready to take full responsibility for what she had done to her parents' lives.

"Mum, Dad, you can't know how hard it was for me to have done what I did to you. Please believe me that it was the only way I could think of to keep you safe. I am part of a world that you can't be part of directly. Even if I had not decided to help Harry, I would have been in danger, and by extension you would have been too. Being his friend would have meant we would have been targeted by the New Order to help to bring him down. He would have turned himself in to save me, or Ron. He loves us. We are his family whether there is a blood tie or not. I truly believe we would be dead right now if we hadn't gone underground on the run and made the attempt to stop Voldemort and his followers.

"I know I've hurt you. I've broken your trust and faith in me. I had only your safety at heart. It tore at me to do it. I did not take this lightly. But you're right; I did not look at the whole picture. Perhaps if I did I might not have done what I did, but... I think I would have been selfish and wanted you safe. If I am truly honest, I think I would have done it anyway because I could not live with myself if it was within my power to protect you from such horrible people. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I would do it again in a heartbeat, the way I know you would for me if you could. Perhaps I should have told you my intentions. But I was sure you would argue and possibly even not leave."

"Are you finished?" her father interjected. "Good. Your mother and I have been talking, and thinking it over, and reminded in many ways," he glanced briefly at Ron and Hermione caught the glance, "of exactly who you are and the kind of person you are. I am ashamed at my behaviour this morning Hermione. You are the most incredible daughter. You've never given us cause to distrust you. I am sorry. I love you. We love you and we're just so happy to be together again, safe and sound."

Hermione's face drained of colour. She had not expected this turn of events considering their earlier meeting this morning. Tears formed but did not fall yet.

"Thank you for saving our lives Hermione." Her mother said as she moved forward, her arms outstretched and hugged her daughter.

Hermione returned the hug with vigour and then looked at her father who had tears streaming down his face. A sob escaped her as she walked to him and he held her close and cried with her. "I love you. I'm sorry. Thank you for our lives, and keeping our family together."

The phone rang and Ron, grateful for something to do, quickly answered it.

"It's Ron Weasley. Yeah." His side of the conversation was rather quiet, but he smiled often, nodding his head, and said "That's great. I'll tell her. Actually, just a second, she might be able to take a call now. Hold on." He looked at Hermione and jokingly said as if her were her administrative assistant, "Minister of Magic Shacklebolt on the line for you Miss Granger."

Her eyes popped as she rushed for the phone in nervous excitement. Her side of the conversation sounded like Ron's to her parents. "OK, thank you Kingsley." She motioned for a piece of writing paper and a pen and then found one in the desk drawer and wrote down a number, thanked him again and then hung up.

She beamed at Ron. "He said "Yes, no problem" to any part of my plan. They would help make it happen. Then he gave me a direct line to him from any Muggle phone. Can you believe it? Um, he wants your full agreement with anything done though. He thinks you should have a say in how your lives _return or proceed_." She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. "He seems very adamant on that point."

She turned to her parents and explained the witness protection plan and other options to them to help save their reputations and careers. Relief went around the room as more hugs were exchanged.

Del looked at Ron and then at his daughter. "That's some young man you've got there. Don't think I'll ever forget this day as long as I live." Del went to Ron and extended his hand. "I think we'll need to get to know you a bit better."

Ron looked at the offered hand and shook it immediately, his ears turning red. Hermione looked slightly confused but beamed at them. Her mother smiled, knowing that look on Hermione. She was going to need to get to the bottom of this between Ron and her dad. There was no denying the unspoken connection between them. Something had happened.

Amused by her daughter's confusion, she took pity on her and made a suggestion so that the young couple could have an obviously needed private conversation. "Well, I'm on my way to getting hungry. What do you say we take you kids, err…you two, out for supper? We could make reservations at a great restaurant we know, casual dress, but not jeans. Um, we'll pick you up in two hours, okay? Would that work for you?" She glanced at her watched. "Say, six o'clock?"

"Yeah, Mum, that sounds wonderful. Thank you." She felt awkward separating from them so soon, but really did need to talk to Ron, so she grabbed at the offer of some private time.

"Great. We'll meet you down in the lobby." Monica gave Hermione a wink, and headed to the door with her husband.

As the door closed behind her parents, Hermione turned on her heel in slow deliberate motion, full of suspicion directed at Ron. "What did you do?"

Monica heard the accusation in the hallway and thought to herself that should be an interesting conversation. She had the feeling Ron was going to need to explain the torture curse he used. Knowing Hermione's righteousness, it could get heated indeed.

Ron swallowed. "I, uh, had a little chat with them today, tried to smooth things over a bit. Didn't think I was that good actually, but apparently something clicked with them." He smiled awkwardly, hoping she would not ask for details.

"Did it involve magic?" she said warily, feeling her heart begin to sink.

No such luck, he thought. "Well, Hermione, how could it not? I explained what happened all last year." He hoped this would satisfy her.

"You _know_ what I mean, Ron," she said tersely. Her eyes scrutinized his uncomfortable body language. "Did you use any magic on my parents?" she asked pointedly.

He winced. "Maybe, just once."

"What? Are they Imperiused? Did you Imperius them? Our Ministry can't track it this far away, I know, but Ron! You wouldn't have, would you? That means this whole conversation was a lie!" she said angrily and heartbroken that he would do such a thing to her parents, but seemingly to her father. Something had happened, she was sure of it.

"I didn't Imperius them!" he said raising his voice slightly too.

"What did you do?" Relief coursed through her, but her eyes were almost wild with nervous trepidation. He was hiding something; she could feel it.

"Well, I—did the _Cruciatus_ on your dad," he mumbled apologetically, and winced again, preparing for the onslaught that was sure to come.

"You did what?" Her eyes looked like they would pop out of her head. Her mouth dropped open in shock. The Cruciatus! All the pain, the fear, the helplessness of her own situation came back in waves. It was too much to take. She paced back and forth, running her hands through her hair, pulling it back harshly against her scalp, not knowing what to do. She turned to him, her eyes full of sorrow, her father's amiable presence barely a moment before erased for a few seconds. "You... you tortured my father?"

"It was just the Minimus—for two seconds!"

"The Mini-what?"

"Minimus Cruciatus. It's a Ministry training and interrogation version of the Cruiciatus. It's one tenth the intensity for a maximum two seconds. It's untraceable. It's not in textbooks because it's not traced, so don't go looking for it. There are lighter versions of the two unforgiveable curses. The Ministry doesn't want to encourage their use or general knowledge of their existence or people might try and use them."

"Like you just did," she said unimpressed. "How do you know about them? I've never heard of them." She seemed somewhat affronted that he was aware of a spell that she knew nothing of. It unsettled her. But, she needed more information before making a decision that could be life altering.

He shrugged. "Eavesdropping, really. I usually sat in the stairwell and tried to listen in to conversations at the kitchen table whenever Mom and Dad had people from the Order over. I found out about a few spells until Mom caught me and then put muffling charms around any meetings. After that there wasn't much point in listening in, was there? Crouch should have used it on the spider that day in class, apparently. I told dad about his teaching methods during Christmas break, actually using the Unforgivable Curses, but obviously not on humans. He was not impressed, but since it was supposedly Mad-Eye, he let it be."

"You were nervous in class that day, as I recall." They were slightly off the topic of her dad. She needed to calm down a moment, so the extra information to process did help.

"Yeah. Mad-Eye intimidated the hell out of me—Crouch or not. I could barely remember my name that day. Hey, I knew a curse that you didn't!" he looked at her with an impressed with himself grin on his face, hoping that would deflect her anger at the situation. Her arms crossed tightly in front of her, her head tilted down as she looked up at him at a sharp angle, her face still tense. He switched tones, back to apologetic and explanatory about the real issue that stood between them.

"Look, I wanted him to really understand what you went through. I think it sunk in. He came here, didn't he? He offered to shake my hand. Apparently there are no hard feelings, and we're about to go out to dinner with them. Remember?" He offered his explanation hoping it would satisfy her, but he had trouble reading her face. He braced himself for another angry assault. He could see she was weighing everything he just said, her eyes searching the room for something and then landing back on his own.

She was reassessing and coming to terms with how far he would go to help her. In many ways it was endearing to her, but her own father? She sighed, a pained, disappointed look on her face that crushed him internally. She walked away from him.

_I usually mess up before I get anything right._ His words echoed in her head. _You're too important to me_.

She turned back around from but kept the distance between them. She could see him tensing, his shoulders inching upwards. What he had done had bothered him, even though he hadn't said it outright. He was not proud of his actions and when she could read that in his face, she turned a corner.

"You'll never do that again, right? No matter how bad an argument gets?" She wanted to plead, to beg those answers from him, but kept her voice strong, defiant and conditional. She needed to be ready to walk if he couldn't answer in the negative. This was a deal breaker. She steeled herself in case he thought he couldn't control his anger. She felt he would, but she had to hear it from him. She could feel her own hypocrisy. She had used magic to deliberately hurt Ron before when she had the conjured birds attack him the night she saw him kissing Lavender Brown. She had physically attacked him the night he came back after the fight. Did she have a double standard? She would have to do some soul searching on that. But, she had not resorted to an Unforgiveable Curse.

He shook his head. "Merlin, no! I didn't do it in anger," he said stepping toward her, bridging the gap halfway. "I told them everything that happened, we were talking. They were still resistant, but I promise you I did not do it to purposely cause him suffering out of malice, Hermione. I promise you; it just occurred to me that he would truly see what you went through that way. I knew it wouldn't hurt long and the intensity was the lowest possible, not to mention that there was no anger or intent to harm when I said it so it was actually further blunted in severity. But, I am sorry. I overstepped. The end did not justify the means. It will never happen again."

Suddenly her reserve melted. She stepped toward him and put her arms around him and sunk her face into his neck, a sudden sob escaping her, her body shaking as tears welled up in her eyes and quickly made tracks down her reddening cheeks. The release was sudden and intense, like a dam breaking. His arms came around her apologetically, protectively, lovingly. Holding her, pressing her to him so that in some way she could take in the truth he offered her on another level. He shifted her slightly so that her head was under his chin and he gently kissed the top of it as relief spread gratefully through him.

She looked up at him and stared a moment before finally sniffling, "I have my family back. Thank you," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thank you."

His eyes drank her in, wondering what on earth she was thanking him for. He was sure her parents would have come around sooner or later. About all he could think was he might have made a difference that it turned out to be sooner. Her mother's calm demeanour and assessing eyes were much the same as her daughter's, he thought. Monica would have made Del see reason if he had not come round to Ron's persuasion.

He gently cupped her face and bowed his forehead against hers and shook his head slightly, but said nothing for a moment. The emotional overload was still telling on her. A moment later, he bent down and scooped her up in his arms and carried her to bed. She stared at him for barely half a second before realizing this was not about possession in any way. This was the purity of love, the unconditional part of being there for one another without demand. He removed their shoes and then gathered her to him in a loving embrace and held her until she fell asleep.

She woke in his arms barely half an hour later, an air of contentment over her body. Stretching like a cat, she felt every sinew. He could not help but let his eyes follow her arms up above her head and the resulting arch of her back pushing her breast against her white blouse, the button straining to hold it together. She noticed and smiled inwardly. She loved the power she could hold over him, it was an incredible feeling. But then she realized that power was only as strong as his was over her, and that was considerable. No one made her feel like he did. No one had ever come close to making her heart skip a beat just appearing in a doorway over their years together. She thought of their silly arguments, the bickering that really punctuated their want of one another. She would bug him about how much he ate a couple years ago during his growth spurt, just to be able to talk to him, to have their eyes connect, an excuse to stare into those baby-blues. After all, annoyed was better than indifferent. At least he was thinking of her and engaged with her. Perhaps it wasn't the best way to go about getting him to talk to her more, but as she gazed at him now with affection, she realized she could engage him in much more satisfactory ways.

His hand came up to push a strand of hair out of her face, denying the hint of what she had seen a second earlier. He would not initiate physical loving again. That would fall to her. He was still in protective-Ron mode. She smiled at his earlier joke: Strong Ron. Yes, actually he was all that.

"Hey. Feel a little better?"

"Loads. What time is it?" she yawned.

"About four-thirty."

"Mmmm," she cocked her head and looked at him, her eyes lazy. Plenty of time, she thought. She shifted her position on to her side, facing him. They stared at each other, just taking in the peace of the moment.

Her left hand began to wander lazily over him as she stared directly at him watching his eyes turn from protective and loving to the physical awakening she wanted. She caressed his ass, her fingers running down the center and reaching further down and inwards, grazing the back of his sac through his pants when he shifted his top leg over hers. His eyes widened, his breathing beginning to intensify. Just barely a touch and she had him. She moved her hand to his front and gently cupped him, feeling him harden in seconds, his groin began to gyrate slowly into her hand, his staff protruding so she wrap her fingers most of the way around pushing him back against himself. She absorbed the essence of his arousal into her own body, as her breaths turned to short, demanding acts. Her breasts pushed against the button again practically reaching out to him. His hand roamed over her shapely hip moving to her flat tummy. Then he gently pushed her over on to her back as he bent his head to hers, holding just above her, denying and making her insistent on some type of connection. He loved teasing her. It came in all different forms throughout their years together. Sexual teasing just brought eroticism into their lives and Merlin if he couldn't get enough of watching her squirm in want. He grazed her lips lightly before moving to her ear and then to her neck, distracting her while his fingers slowly unfastened the buttons of her blouse.

Feeling the cool air against her skin, she inhaled while stretching again. Two could play that game. She studied his reaction this time with her blouse open. His lips parted, his teeth clenched together trying to control his hunger. His eyes darkened with a lust for her that sent chills up her spine. She could have lost this. _Oh, damn! How could I have been ready to walk away from this? It's everything I've dreamed of having with him._

Her back arched, her breasts jutted upward towards the ceiling, straining against the silk fabric of her bra, the line of her ribcage evident causing the plain of her flat tummy to beckon to him. He brought his lips to her stomach, making a trail across it and landing in her navel, noticing a new reaction as he pressed in her depression and then inserted his finger and massaged. Her legs began to ravel and unravel instantly, grinding up and down with need as her panties became wet with her desire to be touched. Her hand descended to her center inside her pants, trying to satisfy herself. He watched her manipulate her own pussy, feeling his cock getting harder. She smirked, wondering if he'd forgotten who he was with. If he didn't do it, she would.

She stared at him hungrily, licking her lips inviting him in; into every crevasse he could fill. Obliging, his mouth first descended on hers, his tongue slowly drawing her in and out following him almost frantically, teasing her and holding back the energy that she was demanding. His hand slipped inside her pants, taking over the job she began. Her eyes rolled back in her head as a shudder escaped. She was becoming desperate for him. He liked that. He broke away from her lips, his eyes travelling down; a nipple had escaped from the confines of her bra. Now that she was wet below, he left it to pay attention to her beckoning tit. First though, he took both her hands up over her head and crossed them at her wrists so he could hold both with his left hand. Then he thumbed the lonely nipple, turning it even harder and ready for him, goose bumps forming on the rest of her breast. His mouth descended, his right hand grabbing on and playing havoc with her senses and his as he could smell her juices on his fingers. Her legs flexed tightly, wrapping around one of his thighs writhing in response. If he wasn't holding her down, she would have humped him again, she knew it. Holding her that way, unable to touch him but be touched herself; it drove her mad. She inhaled in a broken, shuddering breath as he pushed her towards ecstasy with his already skilled caresses. When he finally released her hands they immediately traveled to the button on her pants, undoing them quickly so she could shimmy out of them and be ready. She left her thong on for him to remove, or not. She didn't care.

Her other nipple begged for release, he pulled the cup of her bra down, exposing her other breast to him. He manipulated it into a sharp peak for him to wrap his tongue around, swirling and then sucking her in gently but demanding. He easily ignited the spark of need and desire in her to a flame. Flames needed oxygen to survive, to grow. He became that oxygen to her. Suddenly, she could not get enough as he slowly peeled aside her thong to expose her pussy to him, inserting one finger, probing in and out. Watching her reaction he smiled and added another and then another, her vagina opening more and more to him, coating him, squeezing his fingers. He found her sweet spot and fingered it until she was stiffening and her body unravelled as the fire shot through her, his name escaping her lips in a breathless scream.

Her hands were suddenly through his hair, pulling at him. She slid further beneath him, pulling him on top of her roughly. Their mouths coupled, dancing to an ageless melody. Passion rising, layers of perspiration beading their skin, they savoured each others bodies, hands, fingers running over and kneading each other, sending tingles into other areas that had been ignored. He straddled her, his manhood ever harder for her pressing in his jeans. Raised above her on his hands she admired his chest through his black t-shirt, his arms flexed in the process. She reached for the bottom of his shirt and dragged it off him slowly, leaning up into him, and making him sit back on his haunches. Her tongue began a trail up his chest while her hands each enjoyed his arms, sexy arms that led to well defined shoulders. He was fitter than anyone would know given his hand-me-down clothing. His new suit was the exception. It showed him off and made her wet just thinking about how good his ass looked in it.

He cupped her face, his mouth meeting hers marvelling at how well they complimented each other. His thumbs traced the front of her neck, her head tilted back, as they descended down her throat, passed her collar bone and down the middle of her chest, bringing both his hands around her breasts as she pushed into him, furthering the intensity of his wanting grab.

His eyes roamed over her appreciatively, and then he noticed something. He fingered the straps on her shoulder that he had thought were black initially, like the other night. "Maroon? Normally, I hate maroon, but not right now."

"That's why I chose it," she whispered into his ear as she took his earlobe into her mouth and sucked on it.

"Huh?" Distracted a moment longer, he finally looked at her strangely, once she released him.

"I thought you'd rip it off faster!" she said mischievously, biting her lip.

"Well, when you put it that way!"

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He stared at her in that bra that was barely holding her in. He did not rip the bra from her yet. It was too lovely on her, her both breasts were exposed to him anyway and pushed up and out from the underwire, making her look spectacular, he thought. He realized he didn't want to rush this. He slowly removed her open shirt and continued his sensual exploration of her body with his tongue, his hands, even his feet mingling with her legs; nothing was left untouched. Slow, deliberate attention was driving the hunger in her and him, yet denying them the compulsion for completion for as long as possible.

Slowly, her hands moved to his pants, undoing them and slipping them down his legs along with his underwear. He burst out towards her. Her underwear gone now too, they kneeled on the bed together, her back to his front as his right hand reached around from behind her to finger her pussy, as his dick pushed against her, his left hand holding her to him at her breast. She opened her legs slightly to him and bent forward slightly for him to enter her and she began riding him. Fuck! With difficulty, he pulled out of her or he would have emptied before he was ready, although she was so close again. They lay back down together. He reached for the potion and quickly swallowed a bit. Then his tongue began a course over her breasts, leaving his hands there to keep her tits stimulated as he continued to travel south on her body. He rolled her over on her back and moved between her legs. He bent his head to her folds opened his mouth to her opening, blowing hot air. His tongue entered, lapping and licking, further creating sensations in her that caused new sounds of ecstasy to emit from her as the tingly tremors took her over.

He smiled at her, pleased with himself. "That's two. Can we go for three?"

"Cocky!" she said, panting in after glow.

"Well, that would be the point, now! And aren't you benefitting?"

"Fuck, yes! I'll shut up on that point." She was about to move to take his length in her mouth.

"No, not this time. Can't believe I'm saying that."

"Why?

"Because, your body is so effing ready, I don't want to let that die down."

He lay down and pulled her on top to straddle him. He lowered her on to his ladder, feeling himself begin to shudder as she moved her positioning to create a bond of energy between them that was electric. He was so right; her clitoris was in a state that was on the verge of another more severe climax, this time so much more deeply with him inside her. She began to climb and descend on him, his hands coming around her ass to help her up and down at a speed and force that benefitted both together. Once she had the tempo that gave to him as well, she reached for the headboard, her breasts over his face, and with the added resistance, he could let go of her cheeks, dig in his feet and push himself further and further into her, harder and harder, their bodies slapping together, his thighs flexing with muscles he never knew existed to keep her at just the right angle. With her tits bouncing in front of his face, he grabbed on, stimulating both at once, his mouth devouring one, his hands completely cupping both. She was helpless against the panting, that proceeded to whimpers. Her walls contracting around him and then the never before summits of ecstasy she reached with him right along with her as they scaled the top together, their juices overflowing and shared. They collapsed into one another in sweat, joy and pure breathless exhilaration. He rolled over her capturing her face roughly, her mouth, his tongue not satisfied yet, they continued orally, pushing their endurance as their bodies experienced the aftershocks, the continued tremors for a few minutes.

"Oh, my God!" she said as she clung to him so hard, needing his full weight on her to quell her. She didn't care that her grab meant he couldn't position himself so that he could not relieve her from his weight.

"Indeed!" he barely excreted, panting so hard. His legs still shaking.

"Oh, my God," she said again, totally amazed at what her body could do, and more importantly, what he could do to it.

He laughed huskily, waiting patiently for his breathing to return to normal. "That was the most incredible..." he couldn't finish his thought, his brain felt fried, his legs still twitched here and there. He wondered if he would have pain in them tomorrow. _Oh, who effing cares! I'd do it again in a minute._

"Ron?"

"Hmmm?"

"I am never going to be able to look at you on a broomstick the same way again." She laughed low, huskily, "Weasley is our king."

He burst out laughing and rolled off her gathering to him. After a few minutes, they realized the time and grudgingly moved off the bed to head to the bathroom for a quick shower on unsteady legs. They had to meet her parents in the lobby half an hour later.

oOo

Ron wore his dress pants since Hermione liked him in them so much, and his white shirt, open at the collar. Hermione dressed pretty much the same, she realized when she grabbed another white blouse and put on some navy slacks.

"How come you never said how much you like my ass all those years at Hogwarts, wearing the school trousers?"

"And what would your reaction have been?"

"I guess it depends on the year."

"Mmmm-hm. Besides, these trousers were tailored for you; they show just the right curves. You make me want to bite you," she said through gritted teeth as she came up and rubbed his backside when he bent over to pick up his shoes. He stuck his butt out for her to follow-through, but wound up with a swat.

"Ow! So much for biting!"

"You're teasing me. We have to meet my parents."

"Well, considering almost a month ago we were on the back of a dragon, jumping into a lake and thought this day might never come, those are good words to hear."

She reached up to caress his cheek. "They are, aren't they?"

Hand in hand, they grabbed the lift down to the lobby. Ron waited for Hermione to exit first in a gentlemanly manner, before reaching for her hand. Monica and Del watched them exit, eyes for no one but each other, oblivious to all for a moment. The discussion had ended favourably, it seemed. Monica decided not to dwell on how it likely ended.

They enjoyed a lovely dinner out, mostly discussing Monica and Del's time in Australia, trying to keep the conversation light while out in public. They couldn't really discuss a lot of Ron and Hermione's adventure. That was saved for a return to their home in Killarney Heights. Ron sat in the front seat with Hermione's father, scrutinizing the dashboard, all the lights and buttons. Del put on the radio during the drive home, Elvis Presley came on and the younger couple exchanged a private glance and wink. Hermione turned a little pink and then pointed to a dress in a shop window. Monica's eyebrows rose in curiosity at her daughter's sudden interest in clothing. She had a feeling the reason for it was sitting in front of her.

Arriving back home, the Grangers gave Ron and Hermione a tour of the house. Hermione was surprised to see her mum had set up her art studio.

"Mum? You're still sculpting?"

"Yes."

"But the memory charm...?"

"Seems not to have affected my procedural memory. I still know how to do many of the things I did before. I realized I could sculpt when I helped care for the little guy next door and we played with plastercine. My hands just flew things into shape. I even started modifying tools to design with. I had no memory of being taught it, or even enjoying it, I could just do it. So I bought some supplies and began a love for it all over again."

"Oh, that's so wonderful, Mum. I didn't take away everything from you," she said turning red in the face.

"No, in essence we were still the Grangers, but with no idea how we knew things. Your father helped the same little guy next door when he fell and broke his tooth. He knew exactly what to do for him, helped our neighbours find the right dentist, told him the diagnosis, everything. I concurred, with absolutely no idea why. We had no certification or anything."

Ron and Hermione followed her through the house amazed. They reached a secondary bedroom.

"Um, as you can see, we have plenty of space if you would like to stay here while you're in Australia. You would be very welcome," Monica invited.

"Uh," Ron hadn't counted on that.

"Thanks, Mum. But I think we'll stay where we are. We are here until the end of next week. Thought we would see a few more sights, preferably with you, but also help you pack up anything if you wanted to return right away," Hermione answered to Ron's relief.

"Okay. Um, you could share a room if that is your preference," Monica said uncomfortably, thinking that might be the real reason behind the choice.

"That would be a preference, Mum. Yes. But, I think we need this time together. It's been such a stressful year and, well, I think we would both prefer to stay at the hotel. Thank you, though."

"Yeah, thanks," Ron chimed in, glad Hermione felt the same way he did. "How long do you think you'll stay in Australia?"

"Oh, well, the house was rented for a year, so that would mean we could easily stay until the end of July. But, I think we'll head back in about three weeks. We were planning of a trip to Alice Springs next week. I think we'd still like to do that. Would you like to come along? It's a bit of a drive, Uluru is close by..." Del continued.

"Ayers Rock," Monica offered.

"Oh. Yeah, that would be neat," Ron replied. "We took a tour out of Melbourne the other day, the Great Ocean Drive. What a change in ecosystems in such a relatively small space. It was pretty amazing."

"Oh, yes, we loved that area too and Melbourne is a beautiful city..." Del continued as he handed everyone an aperitif and they headed outside to the backyard and sat around the outdoor fireplace with small glasses of sherry. Del continued talking with Ron about other geological features of Australia and the two started making plans to visit the Blue Mountains, Del warning that it was very touristy though, but still worth the view.

Eventually, discussion centered on the young couple's time on the run.

"How long have you been a couple, if you don't mind my asking?" Monica said.

They looked at each other, and chimed together. "'Bout a month."

"All that time together, and only a month?" Del said. He wasn't quite sure if he was glad or not, just interested.

"Well, Dad, it wasn't all fun and games,"

"Actually, none of it was. We were miserable sometimes, at each other's throats at times..."

"What?" said Monica amused.

"Well, the three of us cooped up together...we were all we saw of people and it wasn't a happy circumstance. We were always afraid, always under stress, cranky when we were stuck in the tent if it rained for days. We really needed sunshine, other people, news of any kind, food...We were always scavenging for food. Being almost always hungry, I think we were all on edge a bit. We were cold. There were rough moments that tested our friendship. Then we were captured, Ron told you about that right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I was...tortured...can't say that was pleasant...I don't remember anything during that except the pain, that maniacal woman, and, well, I remember hearing Ron yell for me from the cellar where they took him and Harry. Then I blacked out and the next thing I remember is waking up in Ron's arms, him carrying me to his brother's house for medical care. He got me out of there."

"Harry too."

"Yes, Harry too. He told me about your tricking Pettigrew to come into the cellar, the guard," she explained to her parents. "You got the magical seal open that way."

"Hermione, don't make me sound better than I was. I was petrified, and let's face it, once Dobby arrived, an elf who has different magic and could break through the spell," he supplied for her parents. "He could have Apparated us out of the cellar."

"Yes, but that is not how it happened. Don't sell yourself short."

"Well, whatever the case, we are very glad you were there for our girl," Del said.

"You said war did occur. When was that in the timeframe?" Monica asked noting she still did not know when they became a couple.

"Oh, about three weeks later, the night of May 1st/2nd. Voldemort tracked us to Hogwarts. We were searching for his magical anchors to immortality. Harry traced one to the school, so we went, but there were so many charms around the place that we were eventually found out to be there. We had to take the chance. All Voldemort's inner circle, called Death Eaters, and pure blood supporters were summoned to the school to go after Harry. Suddenly, everyone was headed there and the battle was on," Ron answered.

"Is this when you lost your brother, dear?" Monica asked gently.

"Yes, during the battle. Many were killed. The school is in shambles still as the Ministry puts together eye witness accounts to create a record of it." Ron answered. Hermione reached for his hand and gently squeezed it.

"Many lost?" Del queried.

"Yes. We have been to many funerals these past weeks. That is what held us up from coming here directly. We needed to pay respects to some of our friends. They died for a great cause, fighting against intolerance, bigotry, fighting for human recognition. I couldn't leave without honouring them," said Hermione, a tear escaping down her cheek. She wiped at it with the side of her hand that held the sherry glass. Her other hand still holding on to Ron's.

Monica watched them closely. "I don't suppose you became a couple during the battle?"

Both Ron and Hermione looked at her, saucers for eyes. Really it was at Shell Cottage, but that was secret between them. They both considered their true time together was when they could openly be together. Also, that meant their time together at Shell Cottage during the nightmares was completely their own, no one else knew.

"That's a yes!" said Del.

"Mum, how did you...?" Hermione stopped so she didn't technically lie to her parents.

"Imminent death has a way of making people realize what's right in front of them. I'm surprised it didn't happen after the torture." She scrutinized the pair. "Or did it?"

"Well, I think we softened to each other quite a bit during that time. Yes, bit of a process to change our relationship and take a chance. That's a bit nerve wracking to begin to put yourself out there." Ron shifted uncomfortably. He said too much, he thought.

Monica smiled at the pair. Well, May 2nd was a special day in many ways. She made her decision on behalf of Muggles in the dark all over Britain.

They finished their sherry and Apparated back to the hotel, pleased at how the day ended.

oOo

**A/N:** Below is the original ending that I wrote over a year ago before I flushed out a lot more drama to change it to an M fic. To make it an M fic, I personally found that the relationship had to be just as worked on, good and bad, to provide more balance. The original ending would have come after her acceptance of his use of the Cruciatus on her father. The tone was much happier, originally. I like Fun Ron, and I sorta miss it in this emotionally charged chapter. Don't read it if you're good with the way it is currently.

oOo

Suddenly she leapt into him, her arms around him, kissing him fully. She gazed at him with adoration in her eyes. "I have my family back. Thank you!" She paused more soberly, "Thank you."

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Seeing that spark back in your eyes is all I need," he said relieved and glad to have her in his arms again.

They hugged again, a long embrace filled with the release of tension, the hope of what was to come, and the relief that all was okay and the gratefulness to be fully with each other with approval of her parents. It wasn't a requirement, but it certainly added to their happiness. "Speaking of sparks!" she glanced at the Contraceptive Potion on the table behind the lamp.

"I'll take it his time!" he said as he let go of Hermione and dashed for it.

She laughed at him. "Ronald! It's not a race, you know!"

"Are you kidding me? Only what, about 90 minutes!" he said as he checked his watch and took a mouthful of the potion.

"Just what on earth are you planning to do?" she laughed.

He raised an eyebrow, and pulled out his wand. "Earth has nothing to do with it!" He flourished it at her, "Wingardium Leviosa!"


	12. Repatriation

**Chapter 12: Repatriation**

A/N: HP Lexicon is the source for the floors at the Burrow. I could not remember them all.

As this chapter deals with my favourite couple returning home, lots of other characters will come into play, so it won't focus on just Ron and Hermione. Bit of a bummer that way, but really, how could it not?

Here goes. The final chapter. (sniffle)

oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO

_Departure from Sydney, June 6, 2pm, _

_Arrival at Heathrow, London, June 7, 7am_

The young couple Apparated on the hill overlooking the Burrow. Refreshed from the sleeping draught they took on board the plane, they were again ready for a full day ahead of them like their first day in Sydney. Once the vile compressing feeling wore off they took in the scenery around them only to have their eyes land back on each other. Eyes meeting, they smiled.

"Why did you want to Apparate up here, Ron? We could just as easily have done so outside your mom's kitchen window," Hermione asked.

"Just wanted to share the view with you. The last time we were here together was on our way to Lovegood's house. I don't know, really." He shrugged. "Last bit together. Stretch it out."

She smiled at him as her arms made their way around his torso. "It's called being a romantic, and it's lovely of you." She tilted her head up to kiss him and he eagerly met her half way, one hand wrapped around her waist, the other coming up to caress her face.

They parted slowly, heads bowed together. "Ready?"

"Yeah, sort of." He smiled at her and in some way his heart wanted to show her off to the world below them, shout out the greatness of the woman whose hand he was holding now. Simultaneously, he was reluctant to give up their privacy together. Despite having her parents' company during the last week and a half, only two people to share her with was nice, and their nights were still their own. They were excellent nights, just the two of them, strolling hand in hand, out to the nightclubs if they felt like it, sitting at Bondi Beach with a blanket and the invisibility cloak wrapped around them or watching movies together.

They made their way towards his family home without rush. When they arrived at the door, he turned to her. "It's been the best two weeks of my life too. Just being with you...I don't know. I can't put it in words."

"I think you just did, Love," she said, her eyes bright with affection for him as well. They shared a quick peck before Ron opened the door, knocking on the doorframe to announce their arrival. "Anybody home?" he called. They set down their magically extended carry-on bags by the door, and wandered the ground floor. No one there, but the tumultuous patter of feet thundered down the stairwell after heads appeared looking down at them.

Molly and Arthur arrived at the bottom of the staircase, followed by Ginny, and Charlie. Hugs and kisses were exchanged; all happy to see one another again.

"How was the trip?" Molly inquired.

"Successful?" Arthur asked immediately, looking to Hermione for a positive answer.

"Yes, they'll be home in two weeks!" she beamed proudly. "All is well. They were just starting to really settle in I think and then here we arrive to mess up their bliss. But I think they are glad to be coming home."

New rounds of hugs for the couple ensued, this time congratulatory. Molly set about getting them some tea and muffins.

"So, you two didn't tear each other's head off, arguing the whole way? Don't tell me you stopped arguing. I won't recognize you," Ginny said.

"We're not that bad!" they said in unison.

"You have your moments," Ginny countered. Arthur and Molly agreed silently, amused.

Ron's arm came around her waist easily in front of them, pulling her in front of him to be hugged from behind as he leaned against the kitchen counter. Her hands covered his over her stomach. "No real arguments well, save for one. The rest of the time was great."

"We took a few days to tour and see some sites ourselves before we found Mum and Dad."

"They were okay?" Arthur asked, "About everything?"

"Well, not initially. That was the source of argument actually—how to handle getting them back completely. They were very upset at first with what happened.

"I can imagine," injected Molly.

"How to handle that became an issue, but it all worked itself out in the end, thanks to Ron; he smoothed everything over," Hermione said looking back at him with admiration.

"Ron?" was the chorus received.

"Yes. He was wonderful at mediating between my parents and me. As I said, they weren't very happy about what happened. And, well...it was a good thing he was there." The others, Ginny in particular looked impressed with Ron and suddenly very proud of him too.

"Then we spent the rest of the time visiting and touring with them. Got lots of pictures, mostly Muggle style still photos, but still, it was really great. Everyone was relaxed and happy and Ron really got to know my parents and vice versa."

Ron made an exaggerated show of blowing a hot breath on his fingertips and then polishing them on his shirt. "They love me." To which he received Hermione's elbow in his stomach, accompanied by a smirk. "Yes, they do. But, once they heard you saved my life, you practically couldn't do anything wrong." She rolled her eyes at her parents' sudden enthusiasm for him after the initial day. "Oh, where's Pig? My parents made me promise to send a letter to Hogwarts for them."

"Hogwarts? What on earth for?" Arthur asked.

"Don't know. They wouldn't tell me, just made me promise to do it. So..." She pulled the sealed letter from her purse and put it on the table. It was addressed to the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"Curious," Molly said and then shrugged her shoulders and opened the window, calling for the owl to come and take the letter.

"Where's Harry? Thought he'd be here, it's only 7:30," Ron asked to no one in particular, though his eyes did land on Ginny at the end of the table as he and Hermione sat down too.

"He was working late last night on Grimmauld Place. Started painting and didn't want to tidy up at midnight when I had to be home. He just wanted to get that job done" she rolled her eyes in mild annoyance at her parents' rules. She looked forward to being a legal adult, although she imagined she would still respect their rules while she was still at home.

"Oh, how's the place coming along?" said Hermione interested.

Ginny became animated immediately. She was so happy for Harry. "You would NOT believe it's the same house. All that black, depressing paint—we stripped it all and it's now in an off white, cream colour, the trim same colour. That's the main entry. We lightened the stain on the hardwood flooring after sanding it down, which took forever. That was very dusty, but Charlie had just the spell for settling the dust quickly from working with messy dragons.

"They don't care how much dirt they kick up, especially Norberta. She's a right feisty girl!" Charlie chimed in. He looked like he was missing the outdoors and the challenge of the life he usually led in Romania. Being home was a nice change though, having just made it in time for the Battle at Hogwarts. Then he elected to stay for the commemorations and celebrations of freedom.

"The sitting room is in a very light gold and a focal wall not quite Gryffindor red, but a wine burgundy. It has a real life to it! I can't wait 'til you see it. Had we gotten Mrs. Black out of there before you left? I can't remember."

"Yes, that alone will improve the value of the place! Old Bat!" Ron shook his head in disgust; his comment was receiving mild agreeing laughter all around.

Charlie piped into the conversation with a yawn. "Luna and her father are staying there too, for about two more weeks as they continue repairs on their house. They are quite an eclectic family. Weird, you know. Don't blame Harry for staying here most nights during repairs. Well, I suppose it _is_ liveable, still a mess though, but they don't seem to mind since they have no where to go.

"Charlie and Bill decided to help and the extra two pairs of hands really sped things along." Ginny nodded in her sleepy brother's direction. He nursed a fresh cup of tea.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Figured I should get to know the bloke a little more. He seems interesting to my little sister."

Ginny turned a little red and then continued. "Kreacher still keeps to himself for the most part, but he helps tidy the place. Kept everyone fed. Hmm, he does not care for Old Xeno or Luna much. It amuses Harry to watch him struggle with being polite, but he does it...to a degree."

They were sitting at the table, Hermione in the chair next to Ron. Arthur noted his arm was around her waist at one point, across her shoulders the next; hands disappeared under the table later. He kept that to himself as they caught up on each other's news. He got up to refill his tea and noticed the young couples legs were joined at the calves. His heart sighed for them. Young love can't get enough, he thought.

After about an hour, they separated to go and unpack and bring begin laundry.

In Ginny's room, Hermione slipped on to her old bed, staring at the ceiling. Ginny entered and jumped on her own bed, eager to have a girls talk and catch up, but Hermione was pensive. "How's your mum doing?" Ginny shrugged uncomfortably. "Was she upstairs in Fred's room when we got here, or their own?"

"Fred's. I've found her there in the middle of the night. Weird. He hasn't lived at home in a year, but she still goes up there and sits."

"I don't know if it's better or worse than her disappearing into the garage."

"I think it's worse. She went to the garage so people wouldn't hear her cry. Now she just sits there, for hours at a time in the quiet," said Ginny sadly. "I don't know how to help her. I don't know what to do. About all I can say is that we don't lose it at the same time so we can give each other a hug, but then we usually end up crying when we do that. Harry...he just focuses on the renovations. He uses magic as little as possible. He seems to get his grief out with a hammer and a piece of sandpaper."

Hermione mulled over the Ginny's words. "Ron, he seems quite healthy I think. He broke down at Hogwarts, became murderous for a moment," she swallowed uncomfortably at the thought. It was a factor in her decision after he used the Cruciatus on her father. She hadn't realized it at the time, but his ability to step back from his anger did play a factor for her subconsciously. "He has his down moments. Expect he will for a while. I expect we all will. Australia was a big distraction. Being back home will bring it back for us, full force." She sighed. "He told my parents about Fred. Speaking about it helps, seems to be in small increments, barely noticeable, but it does help. How about you? How do you deal with it, Ginny?"

"I'll show you." She made a motion for Hermione to get off the bed and look out the window. "There, that's my garden now. Well, mine and Fred's. I started a base and then I add a flower whenever I'm feeling down. I don't know why, but it seems to help to run my hands through the soil, dig...My first little bud is coming up on the corner there. That spot gets the most sunlight. It will be very colourful, the way I think of Fred."

"That is a lovely tribute. He would be touched. Does George know?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. He is not well yet. I don't know what to do for him."

"Each must dance to his own tune. We all deal with it differently. I don't think it is up to you or Ron for that matter. In the end it will be George who has to come to terms with it all and find his life worth living instead of just existing."

"What do you mean, Ron? You said he was doing fine, well, you know."

"Yes, but that protective nature that so annoyed you over the years is very strong for all his family. He was thinking George was in trouble too before we left. He's going to give up his dream of becoming an Auror for a while." A tear escaped her at the thought of his sacrifice.

"What?" Ginny said alarmed. She had been feeling somewhat jealous of Ron, coming back grinning like a Cheshire cat. He seemed happy. So did Hermione.

"He's going to help George out at the store. Keep an eye on him. Make sure he is as focussed as he can be, get him going again," she explained. Her hands motioned in a forward gesture, hoping she would take the message that he would look after his brother in any way needed.

"Merlin! That's... above and beyond," Ginny whispered incredulously.

"Don't you realize he has always been that way, where it counts? This is where he goes the extra mile." She gestured to the house around them. More tears of pride escaped her. "With people he loves."

"That would be you."

"Yes, me included," she blushed.

"Hermioneeeee?" she said in a tone that belayed the feeling the older girl was holding out on her. She cocked her head to the side. "Did you two..., uh, get together while you were in Australia?" She couldn't help herself, she had to know.

Hermione stared at her a moment before turning a little redder. "Would you think less of me if I said yes?"

Ginny hooted. "Excellent!" and she dragged Hermione to her bed, sat down cross legged on it expecting her to do the same and stared at her in expectation. "Well?"

Hermione burst out laughing, turning redder. "Well...are you sure you want to hear this, after all it _is_ your brother."

"Not the details, please, just was it alright? How did you feel?" she said nodding her head awkwardly.

"Uh, okay, it was...to quote a Muggle movie my mum and I love, it was "fan-fucking-tastic!" she said shaking her head in amazed wonder. She couldn't have stopped the smile on her face had she wanted to. It radiated ear to ear as she blushed a deeper crimson.

Ginny stared at her a moment, but was unable to contain her amusement, and she burst out laughing. "Oh, Merlin! Are you serious? Ron?"

"Put aside that it's your brother, sex is incredible. But seriously, make sure you're ready. Attraction is one thing for anyone, that's the easy part. Anyone can just have hot sex if there are no feelings involved. But we had a past. Things just got better the closer we got, the more trust was built up. We worked through a few issues, once those were out in the open; it freed us up a little more if you know what I mean. But, I am in love with Ron, Ginny," she hastened to add. "And, I think I would have been crushed if I went that far with him and he didn't love me back. Because my heart was invested, I couldn't unless I knew his was too. And he does love me Ginny! He loves me!" Her eyes watered with happiness, her cheeks in pain at the smile that was erupting from inside. She couldn't remember ever being this happy.

Ginny reached out and hugged her. "Of course he does! And I am happy for you, I really am. Took him long enough."

"Oh, Ginny, it wasn't for lack of trying. I made him jump a few hoops after last year and the separation before Christmas. I wasn't going to let him think that just because he cared that that was all there was to it. Um, are you and Harry thinking of moving in that direction?"

"Oh, I don't know, honestly. Ron is _in the room with us_, I can see it in his eyes when we get close, but it is happening less and less. He is not as concerned with Ron's reaction as he was last year. Being apart made him realize how much he fancies me." She blushed.

"Fancies? Merlin's pants, Ginny! That boy is 100% in love with you! When we had our worst fight in the tent, it started over you, a few other things thrown in, but it centered on you." She laughed a moment. "When you do decide to get on with it—because Harry will leave it to you to decide when you're ready, he just will, that's him—I have just the dress!" She chuckled. "There's no way Ron's reaction will be in his head if you wear anything like this.'

Ginny laughed. "You think it's up to me? Why? Shouldn't it be mutual?"

"Yes, but, well, you are as you say—his best friend's sister. But seriously, guys seem to always be ready to go. You give them the green light and...Zoom!" She made the motion of a plane taking off.

They laughed together. She was right. Harry was always ready physically. It was his mind that held him back, not his heart or body. "I'm glad for you. I really am. And I don't think Ron's reaction will matter to him much longer. Without sounding arrogant...I get the feeling he's fixing up Grimmauld Place for me."

"Ya, think?" Hermione teased. "Of course he is! Has the man nixed any suggestion you made?

"No," she blushed knowingly.

"Face it. You caught that snitch a long time ago, Ginny."

oOo

Molly disappeared into her fourth floor bedroom, looking out the window. Arthur walked in and joined her.

"They are lovers," she said without looking at him.

"Yes, pretty obvious," he said has he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Our youngest are growing up too fast, desperate to make big decisions, out of fear for losing a future together."

"Were we any different?" he asked.

"That's the problem. I can relate all too easily. But, now I'm the mum. I'm supposed to be...upset? Reprimanding? Guarding their innocence for them?"

"Innocence is lost in war. It's one of the first things to go. It hasn't been replaced with cold hatred, but with love. It could be worse. War could have robbed them of the light in the hearts, and hardened their souls. The pendulum swings both ways. Our children," he sighed, "are not children any more."

"I want them to be," she said selfishly. "I could hold them close and kiss booboos away." Fred's face swam in front of her.

"We have to let them live, we don't have a choice. They'll do it anyway. Can't risk losing another no matter what the method. Besides, I couldn't choose a better partner for either of them if I could. Both Hermione and Harry are good people, loyal, caring, honest, and respectful and balance both of their temperaments. Hermione makes Ron up his game. He makes her relax a little; she's a lot less rigid than she used to be. Harry softens Ginny's fighting boldness. He has a calming effect on her, now that she's over that star struck crush when she was a child. She cares about him for substantial reasons now, which means, it's way deeper," he said mildly uncomfortable. Then he acquiesced to what was so obvious to all. "Hmmm, she's happier."

Molly's eyebrows rose in acknowledgement and then she shook her head with a smirk. "They'll be Apparating into each other's bedrooms. Should we put up jinxes?" She was only half joking, somewhere she wanted him to say yes, let her pretend they had some control.

"Do you really think that would help? We got around them. Even at Hogwarts, if I recall."

She looked back at him, smiling at the memory and he smiled back and planted a light loving kiss on her. "Stellar memories, my dear."

She turned into him and laid her head against his chest. Arthur was her only comfort in these awful weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. So many turned away from their spouses in grief, death could tear apart a family. Not here. He was fiercely paternal. He felt the loss as acutely as she and when they were alone together at night, their shared tears cemented their union that much more.

She sighed, acceptingly. "Merlin, I hope they use Muffling charms."

oOo

Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk, head mistress of Hogwarts. She had the task of rebuilding. She wore the mantle of stress on her sore hunched shoulders and eyes that sunk in a little more in the constant reminder of the death around her. She no longer enjoyed getting up in the morning. She had witnessed too much in the past year.

The newly drawn up plans for the reconstruction of the castle lay in front of her. She thanked the architects and gave the go ahead for the improved plans to head to deliberations with Board of Governors. She had them incorporate more escape systems for students, especially from their dormitories. Debris had been magically cleared away, now the task ahead was at least much more positive in nature.

She sighed and reached for her cup of tea. Finding it cooled since her last sip, she warmed it with her wand, and looked up at a sleeping Albus Dumbledore in his portrait. She missed her friend. She reflected on their last conversation, unsatisfied with the superficial topic of quidditch. If she only knew it was the last time she would be able to share supper with him...

Her memories were interrupted by a tapping at her window. She turned to see an owl pecking frantically to be let in, a letter in its beak. Her eyebrows rose in interest, she moved to let the bird in, took the envelope and gave the bird a treat. It waited for a reply.

She sat down at her desk, noting the return address on the letter and the name at the top: Wendel and Monica Granger, c/o The Burrow. Now she was intrigued. She opened it and her eyes scanned the Muggle paper with the elegant penmanship. Along with the letter were three pieces of paper that once released from the magical envelope, grew to their original larger 2x3 foot sheets with a sketch drawing on each. She looked them over and her heart felt heavy with the sincerity and magnitude of the gift being offered. She was impressed and thought immediately of Hermione. The apple did not fall far from the tree.

She decided to meet with them. She quilled her reply and addressed it to the Grangers, care of the Burrow, to be opened upon their return to England. She smiled with pride and a sense of renewed hope as she gave the small envelope to Pigwidgeon. Then, her step a little lighter, she made her way to the interim staff room for breakfast with Hagrid, Pomona and Poppy.

oOo

"Hey! You done unpacking? Ready to go?" Hermione said as she entered Ron's bedroom. Finding him on his bed staring up at the ceiling, she surmised the opposite. "I guess not. What's up?"

"Is that a loaded question?"

She grinned. "Depends if you are, doesn't it?" she teased, walking over to him and sitting on the side of the bed. She bent towards him, a playful grin on her face as she advanced on his lips, coupling sensuously. "You don't know how often I dreamed of kissing you while talking up here." She stared at him longingly, biting her bottom lip, and then shook her head to the reality of meeting Ginny and Charlie down in the kitchen to go. She patted him on the leg assuming he would follow and get up to go downstairs and Apparate to Grimmauld Place and see Harry.

He did get up, but he did not follow. Instead he grabbed his wand and with a flick the door closed. He had caught that hungry look and he wasn't about to let it go that quickly. She turned to look at him questioningly when she saw the look in his eye that instantly reignited in her own eyes. He took a step toward her, reached out and grabbed her by the waist of her jeans, right at her center, and pulled her to him roughly, his mouth colliding with hers, devouring her with an instant passion. If she had wanted to escape, she wouldn't have been able to, he held her so tightly to him, the suction between them complete.

He wrenched his mouth from hers, roughly making her continue to seek him. "Just kiss?"

Breathing hard, her chest pumping against his, she tried to reassert the control she had a moment earlier. "No. Merlin! It's 9 in the morning!" His hand cupped her ass, sending hunger through her immediately. "Fuck." This was absurd. Ginny was waiting for them in the kitchen.

"Yes, that's the idea. Where did you dream?"

"Take your pick, Ron. It wasn't just one fantasy," she panted.

"Fantasy? More than a kiss then?" he whispered huskily near her ear.

"Merlin, Ron! There expecting us downstairs..."she said as his hand grabbed a mitful of hair and pulled back her head for him to nip at her ear. "Aahhh,...okay, quick though." She grabbed his wand and Muffliatoed the room, and sealed the door.

A throaty laugh erupted from him. "Shouldn't be a problem." As soon as she finished he spun her around facing the other direction and cupped her breasts from behind, causing her to press herself into them, her ass pressed into his groin. He lifted her t-shirt to expose her breasts and then pulled down the cups of her bra. He pulled her back against his chest and continued his dextrous manipulations. Her head leaned back to find his mouth and her tongue darted out looking for his, hungrily.

One hand left her breast to travel south, entering her pants, his fingers easily found her wet already for him, as wet as he was already hard. She was pushing against him, gyrating into his fingers. He unbuttoned her pants and dropped them and her underwear to below her knees. Her hand moved behind her back, groping at his pants in frustration when they did not come apart as quickly as she wanted. He was driving her mad.

"Now, Ron. I need your cock now!"

He let go of her a moment and quickly dropped his pants, pushing her towards the door, he was up against her, biting at her ear, her breasts against the cold hard door, getting harder for him. He guided her back a moment and moved her sideways to the dresser beside the door and bent her over it slightly, their reflection in its mirror as he entered her, watching her reaction and pumped from behind. His hands held her at her hips, controlling her landings on him.

She gripped the dresser, angry that her fingers could not sink into it as her body immediately began the warning quakes. She watched them in the mirror, finding it just as erotic as the feelings he was ramming through her. She was close and she could feel he was too. She flexed her throbbing walls around him and pushed back against him as hard as she could, their bodies slapping like a seal together. "Harder, harder!" He obliged, lost in the moment with her. He was surprised he heard her. Within seconds the pleasure shot coursed through them as he released himself with the final thrusts before collapsing forward against the dresser.

They caught their breaths, and cleaned up using Ron's wand.

"You are very multi-talented.'

"What?"He said amused at her.

"Well, "she said as she adjusted her clothing. "One wand messes; the other cleans," she smirked. "Fuck, Ron that was awesome...and quick."

"Let me tell you a little secret. Quick is not really a problem for any guy." He pulled her close before she opened the door. "By the way, have I told you how much I love to hear the words, fuck and cock come out of your mouth. It's hot, a real turn on when you talk that way when you're in the moment. I love watching you let go."

She wagged her eyebrows at him. "Good to know. Now, let's go wash up and go see Harry."

oOo

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Charlie Apparated to the entry of 12 Grimmauld Place just before 9:30am. The sun was gleaming through the windows brightening up the place considerably.

"Don't you think we should have Apparated outside and knocked? He might find us rather rude to do this," Hermione said.

Ginny frowned. "No, he's expecting us. Now, if we Apparated into the bedroom, then that would definitely be rude...but fun!" Ron winced. Ginny pushed his shoulder. "You're so easy to get Ron. Actually, you're right Hermione. Apparition etiquette is that you appear outside a person's home, certainly not inside. However, since he was expecting us, he said last night to just come right in in case he was already painting and didn't want to stop for the door. He should be doing the dining room this morning. Let's go have a butcher's."

The group walked through the house to the dining room, wondering what the place would look like without the Black family tree tapestry all over it. They entered to find Harry using paint edger at the ceiling joint with the wall. He had the dining room chairs set up so he could walk from one to the next the length of one wall.

"Hi! You're back! Just a sec!" he said as he finished the strip of wall that was within reach. Putting the edger back in the tray, he set it down on a work table and had his arms came around Ron and Hermione within a second, pleased at seeing them both back, safe and sound. Half a second later he was kissing Ginny good morning, and nodding to Charlie. Charlie was amused. Ron was able to stomach the display of affection now and not turn away. Seeing his sister and best friend happy and looking like what seemed to him planning for a future was a good thing. His sister wasn't a fling. If he really thought about it, he knew deep down she had never been that to Harry. It was his own insecurities with Hermione that had filtered in to the over-protectiveness of his sister, even from Harry.

"Got coffee on, Harry?" Charlie chimed in as he inspected his baseboard trim work from the night before. Charlie had acquired a taste for coffee while in Romania.

"Yeah, put it on for you about 15 minutes ago. Help yourself. So," he turned his attention back to Ron and Hermione as Charlie left them. "Everything okay? Your mum and dad?"

"Yes! Everything turned out wonderful," she beamed. "A little misstep at the beginning, their reaction and such, but Ron had a word with them and he straightened a lot out with them. Apparently, he's a diplomat. Who knew?"

Ginny and Harry both burst out laughing. "Well, what else happened?"

"Uh, we did a lot of sight seeing; we'll bore you with pictures tonight at supper. We did lots of eating, lots of talking, lots of visiting with my parents. It was just a great vacation. Ron got acquainted with a lot of Muggle technology. It was amusing."

'Hey!" Ron said slightly offended. He thought he had done pretty well.

"Well, it was!" Hermione slipped her arm behind Ron, her hand descending to his butt naturally, as if it belonged to her.

Harry noticed the easy body language between them. "Ginny, why don't you show Hermione some of the changes we've made."

Ginny read his face. He wanted to talk alone with Ron a moment. Quickly, she ushered Hermione upstairs to Regulus' room and met Charlie on the landing who followed and joined the tour, happy to show off his handiwork.

Once alone in the dining room with Ron, Harry turned to him with the lay down the law tone of voice that Ron so often gave Harry when it came to Ginny. "So you had a good time?"

"Yeah, great."

"You and Hermione are good?"

"Better than good, mate."

"Two weeks together in one room...Get anything cleared up?"

Ron sighed. He knew he would have to deal with the locket with Harry at some point again. "She knows, about everything—the locket, if that's what you're really asking about. Everything is out in the open. We're good, really good, Harry."

"Must have been an interesting conversation," he finished, not knowing how to move on without it being awkward so he didn't even try to be diplomatic. "Treat her well, with respect."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Shoes on the other foot now," he said mildly amused. He could hear his own warnings to Harry about his sister coming back at him.

"I'm serious. She is as close as I'll ever get to having a sister. She's one of the best people I know, she deserves the best. Yes, I agree that's you. You're who she has cared about for years. But your track record together over the years has been sketchy, you know, how you've dealt with problems—the fights. I've been in the middle of them. Just...be good to each other. You're finally together, the way you should have been ages ago."

"Yeah, just...you can relax, Harry. I love her, you know. We're done arguing like the old days. I think we'll still argue though, just not like before. I, uh," he scratched the back on his head quickly in discomfort. "I don't think you and I will ever really be able to talk about the girls or these relationships without hurting each other in the process if something is wrong. I think right here, we should agree, the girls are special and we will both treat them right so there won't be cause for complaint or us getting upset at the other."

"Right. Everything that happens in our relationships will be private, consensual and...Well, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he put out his hand and Harry shook it quickly. "Good, that's square," he nodded, shifting on his feet. "Charlie's been really helping out?" he said to change the subject quickly. His eyes searched the dining room, landing on the newly raised baseboard trim that Charlie had obviously done the day before.

"Yeah, good bloke, and Bill too. Have you seen the burn on Charlie's back?" Ron shook his head, alarmed. "A Hungarian Horntail got him, protecting her egg. I could relate," he stated as the memory of fighting to get an egg from such a dragon during the Triwizard tournament came back to him.

"Ewe! No Ditanny?" Ron said alarmed.

"The dragon burned up the first aid supplies. Ditanny wasn't applied for almost 2 hours, so there's a scar left. Your mum doesn't know. I told him that should work well with the ladies, a few good stories down at the pub."

"Oh, don't remind him! That line of work just sends women running the other way. He hadn't realized that when he went in for Magical Creatures training. He loves his job, but not one woman there for the men to fight over, he says. Just a few in the local pub and they all seem to be spoken for. Poor bloke! Lots of quidditch chat, I'll bet."

"Yeah, we listened to the play-by-play of the Hollyhead Harpies. He thinks Gwenog Jones will be looking for a good seeker soon. The current one just got married."

"Yeah, well, night follows day, right? Maybe a baby soon? That might open the door for a new position. Ginny's pretty darn good, more than good," chimed in Charlie as he entered the room, followed by the ladies. Ginny beamed with pride at the complements she was receiving on her abilities.

"I thought you said Lovegoods were staying here?"

"Yeah, at night, but during the day, they are at their place, fixing it up. Which is why at night, I prefer to stay at the Burrow. And last night confirmed it. If I have to stomach one more cup of gurdy-root tea, I'm going to barf, I know it," Harry said.

They all dissolved in sympathetic laughter and got on with organizing the days' work between them.

oOo

That night as Hermione lay on her bed in Ginny's room, she listened for every little creak in the floorboards above her. What she wanted was four floors up and she felt utterly alone. After two solid weeks of each other's company, this was the first time she and Ron would be apart for any length of time. She hated it. How the hell am I going to survive going back to Hogwarts without him? Did it make her weak to be this way? The thought caused a grimace to plaster her features.

Ginny entered after brushing her teeth and got into her bed. She could hear Hermione's breathing and could tell she wasn't asleep. She seemed troubled. "Hermione? You alright?"

"Technically, yes."

"Technically? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Physically fine. Mentally...another story. My mind won't stop. I can't get him out of my head."

"Who? Ron?"

"Yes! This is so frustrating!"

Ginny grabbed her wand and turned on the light and stared at Hermione as her eyes readjusted to the light. Embarrassed, Hermione explained. "This is our first night apart."

"So?"

"We've been together for over two weeks straight. I'm just so used to him beside me now. He's like my arm, part of me. It feels utterly weird that he's so far away."

"It's only four floors."

"I know. I know this sounds crazy, but suddenly I understand so much more why married couples hate to spend nights apart from one another."

"Sex."

"No. Not even that. It's the bond that's been created. The other person is there, in the dark of the night, for you. Sometimes I would feel him just hold my hand for a second, squeeze it—or a kiss on my shoulder. He wasn't expecting anything from me, just letting me know that I was in his thoughts in small ways. They are special moments in the dark that just enhance everything else. I would do the same; just kiss his shoulder, his back in his sleep. It's not about the sex in those instances, there's no expectation. The other isn't always aware you're doing it, and yet, they are," she ended softly, wistfully. "Do you understand?"

"No, not really. Well, not the feel of it, unless it's just the pure happiness of being together, completely relaxed. I like knowing I can share anything with Harry. He listens, gives feedback, but not condescendingly, or opinionated. Just being together." Then Ginny thought a little more. "Actually, when we were painting, he would always give me a quick peck, a look, or a wink. Ways of giving me messages that I was in his thoughts too, even if Charlie or Bill were in the room. So, yeah, I'm starting to understand. Not on your level yet though."

Hermione sighed in frustration. "I can't sleep. Think I'll go make some camomile tea," said Hermione as she got to her feet and grabbed the dressing gown from the bottom of the bed and put on her slippers. "Night, Gin."

"Night," she said turning off the light, shaking her head as Hermione closed the door.

Hermione made her way quietly to the kitchen, trying not to alert Molly and Arthur whose bedroom was on the fourth floor above, one below Ron's. The problem was the creaking stairs. She felt like she was waking the whole house as she descended. She rummaged through the cupboard for the tea thinking about Molly's offer that Hermione call the older woman by her given name now. It would take some getting used to, but it was such a nice gesture. Ron easily called her parents Del and Monica after their trip to Uluru together. It was easier for him to change over, she thought, there wasn't as much history there. In this house, she still felt like a young girl.

Since she seemed to have a lot of time, so she warmed the kettle without magic and sat at the kitchen table waiting. Her mind on someone upstairs, or so she thought. A door opened behind her from the scullery. When she looked up, her heart smiled.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" Ron asked.

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same, I took a walk," he said as he slipped into the chair next to her, his arm slipping around her shoulder as he kissed her temple lightly.

"Tea?"

"At this time of night?"

"Camomile, it helps me sleep, relaxes me."

"And here I thought that was my job now," he commented with a soft smile and a nod at the tea suggestion. He began rubbing her back.

"Hmmm, don't remind me. I couldn't get you out of my head. Kept thinking you should be beside me. I feel like a love sick idiot," she said annoyed.

"Well, that would make two of us then. I got used to you being beside me. My leg kept wandering, looking for you."

"Really? That's so sweet, and a bit disturbing don't you think? It was only two weeks. It's not like we haven't slept apart before," she complained.

"No, but our relationship was not what it is now," he said taking her hand on the table and lacing their fingers together. She leaned into him, savouring the comfort of the joint connection, despite its inconveniences in the new environment. "It may have only been two weeks, but it was the best." His lips sought hers, his hand let go of hers and cupped her face, lovingly communicating how much he already missed their private time together too.

The kettle whistled and she got up to pour it, adding another cup for him. They sat together talking about the day's work at Harry's house and the plan for tomorrow, they read the paper. When she yawned, he began clearing their empty cups away, figuring it was time for them to hit the sack.

"I don't want to go up." She wrapped her arms around him.

"Me neither," he said as he hugged her in return. "Come here," he said and he took her hand and led her to the sitting room, lit only by the moonlight. He sat down on the end cushion of the couch with his feet up on the coffee table and he motioned for her to sit beside him and snuggle. She lay stretched, her head in his lap. He grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and spread it over her. It was large enough that it could drape over his legs as well. Before they knew it, they fell asleep together.

The next morning, Arthur and Molly made their way down the creaking staircase only to see the young couple sleeping soundly in the sitting room.

"Well, that's not what I expected to happen, but I'll take it," Molly whispered.

"Sorta sweet. Didn't know he had it in him," Arthur replied. Ron's head had lolled to the side, his mouth open. "He used to drool like that when he was a baby. Some things don't change."

oOo

One year later. May 2nd, 1999

The grounds of Hogwarts bustled with an odd energy, that morning. No classes that day, it was Sunday. But there were visitors everywhere, slowly filtering in from Hogsmeade after breakfast. She could hear parents reliving old memories with their children, marvelling at the changes in the castle's reconstruction as well as the respect for the traditional architecture.

Teachers were everywhere, talking with parents about anything but academics. Today was not the day for a parent-teacher interview. Today had nothing to do with curriculum. Today was all about history, honour, rejoicing, and sorrow. This was the first anniversary of freedom from Lord Voldemort. It was a celebratory day, as well as a day or mourning. It was an odd mix. Stories which matched both feelings could be heard as people appeared all around who had fought in the battle. Ministry officials wandered the grounds appreciatively too. Tours of the changes began every half hour, by students until eleven o'clock when the scheduled service would begin down by the lake. They would resume after lunch until four in the afternoon. Then, everyone was free to leave with parents to go to Hogsmeade for supper and fireworks. Many chose to have the tour done by their own child.

Everywhere, one could hear tales of the past being told, stories of best friend's hijinx under a tree, in the lake, the hallways, and once in a while during class. Students were rapt with attention listening to their parents' reminiscences. Being together on the grounds in this fashion was unprecedented. As Minerva McGonagall observed the connections being made all around, she decided it would not be the last time. This would be an annual event.

Chairs were set up by the lake under a massive tent, in the same place, many would recall, as they had been for Professor Dumbledore's funeral almost two years earlier. After the ceremony, tables would appear and people could choose to eat lunch there if they wished. However, the Great Hall was ready to receive its usual compliment of students in the reconstructed communal centerpiece of the castle.

It was Sunday; no one had to wear their house uniforms. But for this day, in the future, whether it landed during the week or not, Minerva decided, no uniforms would be required. This day was about coming together, getting past differences, innate or imposed by society. This day was about remembering the sacrifices and the valiant fighters of the Battle that occurred on school grounds. She decided to submit for a school holiday on May 2nd every year. She didn't think there would be a problem. The Ministry had declared this day a holiday this year and she heard talk of the extension into the future.

Minerva McGonagall was in discussion with the Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt and two former Muggle prime ministers, Thatcher and Major, he invited when she spied Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley walking together. They wore serious, downcast faces and had a wreath of flowers with them. The headmistress knew immediately where they were headed, the site of Fred Weasley's death. She decided not to interrupt them, but waited for the girls to return to the courtyard about ten minutes later. They walked past the large empty plinth at the center of the yard, wondering what it was that had appeared there the day before.

"Girls?" McGonagall waved them over to her, and excused herself from the Muggle guests. Kingsley was pushing the Statute of Secrecy by inviting them; however, he had hinted to them that if they discussed the day's events with anyone they might not remember anything afterwards. He felt it important for them to know that the magical world was right again.

Surprised, the young women made their way over to their former Transfigurations teacher. "Yes, Professor?" they said in unison.

"Are you going down to Hogsmeade to escort your parents here?" the headmistress inquired.

"No. Actually, Ron, George...well, all my siblings will be with them. They know the way. We thought we would meet them at the gates," Ginny replied. "Oh, and Harry too," she added.

"Yes, I don't imagine the Ministry would let him not be here, today anyway," the old woman commented uncomfortably as she glanced behind her.

Ginny smiled. She knew Harry was here for his friends, not because the Ministry wanted him here. "I would like you to go down to Hogsmeade. Well, perhaps I should say, I think you should. You made the procession the other way, a year ago today. I think you'll both find that, though it may be difficult, it is something you should experience with your families."

"Oh, my family isn't coming. Muggles aren't allowed in Hogwarts." Hermione commented.

McGonagall smiled. "I have been in contact with your parents Miss Granger. They will be here by special invitation. They will arrive with the Weasleys as their escort. I gave Mr. Ronald Weasley the spell to remove the Muggle Repelling Charm for ten seconds when they approach the roadway. So, I suggest you make your way to meet them. They arrive in Hogsmeade at 10:30am."

Hermione was amazed. This was a special circumstance indeed. Why would they let her parents in and not those of other Muggle-Borns? She had never even considered asking for permission.

"Oh, alright! Thank you, Headmistress." Hermione responded cheerily. Ginny nodded her head in thanks.

The two girls made their way towards the open gates of Hogwarts and then proceeded down the road to Hogsmeade. Each smiled as they spied their families walking together towards them. Ginny's eyes searched for Harry, Hermione's for Ron and then her parents.

She watched as Del and Monica suddenly looked confused and began turning back towards Hogsmeade. Ron removed his wand and made a large sweeping X. Hermione could see him muttering an incantation, before putting his wand away in his sleeve. His family had stood aside to watch him, Percy and Charlie gently blocked the Granger's retreat until the repelling charm had been lifted and the Muggles visibly shook their heads and turned back around to continue on their original journey.

"Del? Monica? You okay?" Ron said knowingly, but did not want to let on that they had been the target of school defences.

"Yes, uh, we're fine," Monica answered a little confused.

Satisfied, Hermione's parents were alright; he nodded his thanks to his brothers, and noticed Bill hovering over a panting Fleur. Hoping it was nothing more than the uphill climb making it difficult for her to breathe in her state; he turned back ahead and quickened his step to get to Hermione, though he kept glancing back at Fleur with concern. Harry too had begun to move a little faster away from the main group to meet up with his girlfriend.

Hermione's eyes lit up, feasting on him. He looked so damn good. He always did in her opinion, but now that he was working and made his own money, the first thing he bought was some decent clothes that complimented his frame. The next thing was the emerald cut sapphire and diamond pendant that she fingered subconsciously on her breastbone—her birthday present.

Ron came at her and his arms encircled her in a loving embrace, lifting her off her feet momentarily. "Missed you," he said as gave her a quick peck.

"I missed you too," she said, their eyes meeting and reflecting a wish for a more personal moment without so much family surrounding them. Then she moved out of his embrace to hug both her parents, Molly and Arthur and George and Harry too, nodding her hello to Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy. She noticed a heavily pregnant Fleur was holding her low back with one hand and grabbing hard at Bill's hand with the other.

"Are you alright, Fleur?" she asked concerned, looking back and forth between her and Bill.

"Oui. A little sore. Comes and goes," the French woman panted.

"Aren't you due any day now?"

"Last week, actually," Bill answered with a worried look on his face.

"I will not miss zis day, Bill, so stop arguing," countered Fleur a little breathlessly. "Ze walk will do me good."

Not wanting to add further stress to the moment, Hermione addressed her parents. "I can't believe they are letting you up here," she said. Then she turned to Ron, "How long have you known about this?"

"Oh, a while," he smiled. He had magically altered the first letter to McGonagall to allow for the large sketches, promising uncomfortably not to tell Hermione. "I thought it might be a nice surprise for you. You'll get to show them around a bit."

"Yes, it will be nice to know and understand exactly where my little girl went to school," Del commented.

"You can't know how nervous we were that you were going to a place that we knew nothing of. It was a tremendous leap of faith," Monica chimed in. "Professor Dumbledore certainly had a way with words and putting our minds at ease. He showed us pictures, moving ones..." Monica added, looking at Molly and Arthur. "At least he let us go to Diagon Alley."

"Never forget that day," then the absurdity of what Del had just said hit him and he looked at a squeamish Hermione. "Well, unless Hermione has different ideas, of course," he added teasingly.

Hermione's eyes lit up; glad her father could joke about the memory charm used on him now. "Oh, Mum, Dad, I'll be able to show you where I took my classes, ate meals, hung out with these two. The Common Room wasn't damaged at all. It's still the same although it has a new emergency exit now descending down the exterior of the tower. It's invisible from the outside, so the look hasn't changed except for a new doorway from the first landing up the stairs to the dormitories."

"Sounds like McGonagall has made some good changes," Harry said. He thought of his meeting with her to go over the Elder Wand's usage in castle defence spells. She had known all but two, and was grateful to Harry for instructing the wand to reveal its secrets.

"Yes, I do believe she did." They resumed walking towards the castle. "The school had never been a site for a battle before, but that's not to say that it could not happen again in the future. No one knows. She did not want to make the character of these renovations oppressive reminders though. Oh! You know what else she did? The second floor girls' lavatory is now an open access passage to the Chamber of Secrets. You won't believe what she's done! The Chamber is so big, that it is now an indoor quidditch training facility. She had it beautifully excavated and enlarged; it doesn't feel cavernous anymore. Harry, you would be so proud, so impressed."

Harry looked at the other young Weasley men, all former quidditch players. They were all keenly listening to the conversation. "Ginny wrote me about it. Has it gone into use finally?"

"Yes, last week. Of course it is not nearly as nice as being outside on the real pitch, but it's so much easier for all four teams can get practice time in now, and being indoors is helpful in inclement weather. Games are still outside of course, where spectators can enjoy them," said Ginny enjoying the beautiful spring day, hand in hand with Harry.

"Excellent! Bet Myrtle's pissed with all the new traffic through there," Ron added.

"Yes, that's still a sticky point. But she's coming around," offered Ginny. Noting the puzzled look on the Grangers' faces, Ginny hastened to explain. "Oh, Myrtle is the ghost of the lavatory. She's harmless, a little nutty, but mostly quite kind. She cries a lot, or moans, which is why she is referred to as Moaning Myrtle."

"So, does that mean she died, or was killed in that bathroom?" Del asked, remembering some other stories from Hermione and why ghosts haunt certain places.

"Yes. That is why the Headmistress wanted to make the room much more full of life, in a positive way, same for the Chamber. It has been expanded. The entrance is wide open to the hallway, with a changing room and toilet facilities surrounding it. Her goal was to rid the place as much as possible of the negativity and replace it with something that would bring people together under vastly different circumstances."

"I think the other founders would approve the new usage," Ginny commented. "Don't care for my first visit there, I have to say." Harry squeezed her hand. When she looked up at him her mind travelled back briefly to his saving her six years earlier from Voldemort. She smiled at him and then her mind moved forward thinking of the small secret she kept to herself something, she discovered by accident.

McGonagall had been excited about opening up the Chamber for full usage that she invited the quidditch captains to make suggestions that could be accommodated if within budget. Ginny had come back from the interview so excited and quietly mentioned to Hermione that she noticed they had tentatively renamed the Chamber on the plan: Harry Potter QuidditchTraining Facility.

"Professor? What's this?" she had said, pointing to the title at the bottom of the blueprints.

McGonagall might have actually blushed a moment. "Well, Miss Weasley, we tired of calling it the Chamber of Secrets in our discussions. It has a bad ring to it. Hagrid came up with the idea of naming it after someone who had contributed greatly to the school in recent memory but also might have a connection to quidditch, the proposed purpose for the facility. I thought, perhaps, he might agree to it. So, one could call it a working title for now, but the name seems to be sticking with all the construction men, although they call it Potter Field. Now all we have to do is convince Mr. Potter to allow us to honour him. He is after all the youngest person to ever make a house team and he has a great connection to that place, having saved someone's life in that very room, yours to be exact, not to mention he also contributed to Voldemort's demise there as well. It just screamed the name Harry Potter to all of us."

"I suppose you want me to work on him a little," Ginny said slyly.

"Well, no. I think I will send him a letter. I thought I had the name covered with the paperweight. No one was supposed to see that until we contacted Mr. Potter. Would it be terribly difficult for you to keep it quiet?"

"No. I don't think so. Obviously, I'm a little biased, but I think the name is a great idea," Ginny smiled. The other captains agreed with Ginny and promised not to mention the possible name.

Ginny's mind returned to the walk as she spied the gates.

They kept moving forward, but Molly and Arthur waited a moment when they heard Fleur inhale harshly and stop to lean against a tree.

"You can't fool me, my dear. I've been through it seven times. How far apart are your contractions?" Molly inquired.

"Ten minutes," Fleur panted.

"When did they start?" Arthur asked."

"Last night, around nine," Bill supplied.

"And the back pain?"

"Seven yesterday morning," replied Bill who received a glare of betrayal from Fleur.

"You should be at St. Mungo's, my dear," Molly said matter of factly.

"Thank you!" said a worried Bill, his forehead creased with lines. He did not know what to do. His stared at his wife with a look that challenged her determination to be at Hogwarts for the ceremony now that he had some backup from his mother.

"I will be 'ere for Fred, for Lupin. It's only anozer 'our or so. Zen I will go," she stood up defiantly and kept walking. "I will be 'ere for zem."

Molly's eyebrows rose, impressed and yet stupefied by the young French woman. Damn, she was stubborn. She decided she would seek out Madam Pomfrey and let her know the situation just in case. She walked ahead of the expectant couple so they wouldn't feel her eyes on them. They were close to the hospital wing at Hogwarts at least if there was a problem.

Fleur had taken about ten steps when water gushed from between her legs to her feet. Bill instinctively jumped back a second, only to find himself darting back to Fleur's side when he realized what had happened. His arm was around her immediately to steady her. She grabbed on to him, staring at her wet feet.

"Don't tell your mozer, yet. It's just anozer step in ze process. Plenty of time and you know it. Ze first baby takes longer. Just 'elp dry me off please," she said humiliated, looking at her pretty yellow dress that was wet.

Uncomfortably, Bill cleaned her up without drawing attention to them. "Okay, but, five minutes apart and I don't care what argument you put up, I'm taking you to the hospital wing.'

She looked at him. He was adamant. Fleur nodded and continued to grip his hand as they continued onwards up the road they had walked together a year before in the opposite direction, escorting Fred's lifeless body. Now, the walk represented the ushering in of new life. As uncomfortable as it was, it was a good change.

At eleven o'clock, all gathered and sat down in the chairs by the lake, facing the podium. McGonagall as head of the school began welcoming the guests and students to the occasion commemorating the fallen of the Battle of Hogwarts a year prior. It was a mixture of solemnity and stories of heroism and defiance in the face of oppression. Towards the end of this first phase, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic addressed the crowd.

"Though this day honours our fallen and the ultimate sacrifice one can give in order to restore freedom, it also honours the universality of all attending, and those not in attendance. Over the years, it has been my duty to work with Muggle Prime Ministers. Though our world remains secret and hidden from the Muggle world, its leaders have always been informed of our existence, and indeed of the dreadful situation we found ourselves in two years ago. They had the most difficult task of being in the know and not being able to say anything about it."

"We thank you for understanding, we welcome you here today. Your invitation is unprecedented, a sign of attempt for you to understand that, though different, we all share the same human traits, good and bad. It is on this point that in a moment I will invite you all to walk with me and the Headmistress of Hogwarts to the newly expanded courtyard and its commemorative gardens. There we will end our ceremony of remembrance and celebration and I hope you will see just how much we all have in common. Professor McGonagall, if you will?"

McGonagall approached the podium again, putting her wand to her throat and her voice boomed out: "Would the Heads of Houses each come forward," she waited and her assistant had them stand at the corners of a large covered and magically sealed objected. "Would Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom please join us?"

The trio looked at each other, completely surprised. They got up awkwardly, looking down the aisle at an equally shocked Neville. They advanced together down the aisle towards the professor and the Minister of Magic. Each was asked to step in between the Heads of Houses and take out their wands.

"Today, four houses united, along with the young people most directly responsible for the downfall of Lord Voldemort..." McGonagall's voice broke a moment. She regained her composure and continued. "So that the sacrifices made a year ago today were not in vain: the young leaders of resistance they called themselves, Dumbledore's Army. United, would you raise this monument to our lost and escort it to its new home in the center of the Memorial Gardens in the courtyard." She wiped at tears forming in here eyes and followed the group that was led by Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Kingsley made eye contact with Harry who was placed as the center lead. Harry walked slightly sideways at an angle as he used a levitation charm on the large and very heavy object needing eight wands to keep it levitated about twelve feet off the ground, visible to all. He followed Kingsley toward the courtyard. As they passed by up the wide aisle, each row emptied from the front towards the back following their wake.

Unnoticed, in the back row, Fleur gripped Bill so hard he thought his hand would break. "Now!" she breathed through gritted teeth.

The young couple skirted around the procession. Bill made eye contact with the nurse, who immediately transformed a nearby chair into a stretcher. Bill and Charlie each grabbed an end and hurried Fleur to the medical wing of Hogwarts.

The procession continued its way to the courtyard with statue in tow, guided gently by the eight selected witches and wizards. All looked solemnly ahead with tears falling down their faces. The former Muggle prime ministers followed in awe at their surroundings and their being welcomed to the school that had been kept secret until they both had gone into office. Tony Blair, John Major, and Margaret Thatcher had accepted the invitation, eager to experience the place that they heard about, but had never seen or been able to talk of. They walked solemnly, yet in awe, with a wreath of flowers from the Muggle world following along behind the Minister of Magic, their former assistant, surrounded by a sea of lit, upheld wands. Directly behind the prime ministers, two Muggle dentists followed equally in awe of their surroundings, keeping an eye on their daughter and her friends ahead.

They set the object down on the plinth at the center of the beautiful courtyard and stepped away, back with their families.

"This new larger courtyard is but the beginning of the reconstruction. By that, I mean it is its heart. It is larger, full of park benches around the edges for people to sit and enjoy the new gardens at the center. In the middle is what we are here for. This is a gift to the school from the Muggle world to ours. Very few people know of our existence, and the few that do are usually parents of Muggle-Born students. The prime ministers, are another exception," she nodded in their direction. They each smiled in return, slightly awkward.

"A year ago today, we fought for freedom and justice in our world. No world is untainted by evil and those who think themselves better than others. In many ways, we have so much more in common than that which separates us. In recognition of that, we have been given a truly wonderful gift from the Muggle world, from the parents of one of our students.

"Drs. Monica and Wendel Granger have graciously designed and had made the wonderful commemorative statue to those lost in the battle last year. Would you come forward please, Drs. Granger, and join me." McGonagall motioned to the strings which held the wrap around the sculpture. She waved her wand and the magical seal broke. "Both of you please take a string and pull when I give the word," she quietly to them.

The Grangers each went to either side of the draped figure and waited for McGonagall to say the word. She nodded instead and they pulled on their string which removed the black draping from the sculpture.

A round of applause met the bronze figures of two parents who sat in mourning on a park bench in front of the grave marker of their child. The plaque read:

_In deepest gratitude for the sacrifice made in defending the best humanity has to offer_

—_love, generosity, loyalty, respect and acceptance. _

_From the Muggle world to the Magical world _

_May we always remember what brings us together._

_Dedicated on May 2__nd__, 1999_

With the unveiling, the ceremony was over and people began to mill about, shaking hands with the Grangers and offering their thanks.

Hermione's eyes were watering; Ron had taken her hand and squeezed it in pride of both her and the generosity of her parents. "You knew? Didn't you?"

"Yes. Sworn to secrecy by your mum in Australia. She wanted it to be a surprise, but she needed me to act as go-between with McGonagall for awhile."

The Grangers stepped away and sought out their daughter. "Mum? Did you design this?"

"Yes. We met with Professor McGonagall and then the Board of Governors. We offered them a few options. I sculpted the model and then had it made. The model is on display at your Ministry now. The Professor helped with the reading, since it mentions both worlds and that had to be kept secret. We felt it was at least something to give back when they taught you so well, how to protect, how to defend yourself. And Ron and his family, and so many others...What they all lost when they defended not just their rights, but humanity. It's a small gift by comparison.

"No one is comparing," Ron said wisely, his arm around Hermione.

"Then, that is how it should be," said Del. Suddenly Ron's eyes were full of tears as Fred's lifeless eyes swam in front of him. Del patted the younger man on his back and hugged him. Ron was shocked at how easily he accepted the hug and how much comfort he took from it. He straightened up, a little red in the face, wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. He looked for his own father who was busy holding his wife, and then to George who stood stone still looking at the monument. Angelina Johnson came up to him in that moment and gave him a hug and started chatting with him.

Hermione watched her father comfort Ron. How far they had all come since the afternoon when Ron has used Cruciatus on her father almost a year earlier. Tears overflowed at the closeness that had developed between them. She could not be happier that her father liked Ron so much. Monica was quick to join in and hug Ron and when Hermione saw that, it hit her. The monument was publically to the magical community at large, but personally, to them, it was thanks to Ron for saving their daughter's life and a tribute to the Weasley family.

Everyone had begun mulling about, each wanting to get a closer look at the sculpture. Suddenly, a flying note came to Molly and Arthur Weasley. Molly opened it and the tears that were falling on her face stopped and started anew. She read the note aloud to their family. "Oh, my, everyone!" She looked up at the hospital window to see her eldest son there with a bundle in his arms. "Fleur has just given birth! It's a girl! Considering the circumstances of her birth, her name is, Victoire!" she read.

Cheers went up within the family, hugs and handshakes of congratulations followed and the Weasleys, Grangers and Harry Potter began making their way up to see the newest addition to their family.

"Molly!" McGonagall called. "George? May I announce the birth to all? There's never been a birth at Hogwarts to my knowledge. And, considering the day, I think it would be wonderful to share joyous news, if that would be alright with you."

"Of course, Minerva, I think it's wonderful!" Molly said.

McGonagall looked at all the Weasley men. There were too many to call for the Mr. Weasleys she wanted, so she succumbed to their first names. "George, Ron. May I have a word with you?"

Ron was on his way with Hermione and the rest of the family when he heard his name called. "I'll be up in a moment," he said as he kissed her quickly.

"Mr. Weasley, please come this way," she said addressing George and motioned Ron to follow. She began leading them into the castle towards a hallway where the staff room was situated. She stopped at a door, continuing her account. "When I became headmistress last year, I slowly began acquainting myself with a lot of storage rooms. I found some confiscated items that belong to you and your twin." She smiled. "Unless you think otherwise, I think they might be put to good use today."

George and Ron looked at each other with curious looks. McGonagall opened the door and flourished her wand at the light. Inside were boxes of confiscated materials by students, one whole wall devoted to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes contraband. George's eyes popped open wide, landing on the multitude of fireworks. He looked at the headmistress, a mischievous spark in her beady eyes. George couldn't help feel that McGonagall was enjoying this moment as much as he was. It was as if she was getting a little dig at Delores Umbridge. "You thinking what I'm thinking, little brother?"

"Oh, yeah," said Ron with a grin ear to ear on his face.

George took out his wand and made a design across the boxes of fireworks, binding them together so that they would explode in the formation he made over top of them. Then he and Ron gathered the fifty or so boxes with massive smirks on their faces.

McGonagall couldn't help but laugh. "I'm so glad that I don't have to hide the fact that I think your jokes and tricks are very amusing and inventive."

Ron laughed at her as he put a binding curse on the boxes to usher them out easily. They made their way outside to set up and when they were ready, George nodded excitedly to the professor.

She hastily sent a note upstairs to the infirmary and when faces appeared in the open windows, watching and listening, she continued. Putting her wand to her throat she announced. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my privilege to add to the occasion. As much as we are here to commemorate those we have lost, we are also here to celebrate life, lives saved, and today, new life. To my knowledge, there has never been a birth at Hogwarts—until today!" She could not contain her enthusiasm at sharing this wonderful news. "It is with great pleasure that I announce the birth of a daughter to Bill and Fleur Weasley, today of all days!" She directed the crowd's attention to the upper windows of the infirmary where the Weasley family stood, a new baby cradled in her mother's arms. Cheers and applause erupted all around. "They have named their little girl, Victoire." More applause. "And, I believe her uncles have a gift for her and her parents already." She looked up at the family in the window and directed their attention to the skyline.

Fireworks erupted all around in the form of a circle and inside it, was the sparkling letter "V". Ron and George happily continued to set off the rest of the fireworks all around the original design.

A few minutes later, Ron and George boisterously entered the ward where Fleur was the only patient. Everyone had been taking turns holding the beautiful baby girl with fine blond hair who slept peacefully. Finally, Hermione got a turn holding her.

Ron went over to his brother and shook his hand and gave him a hug, and then he turned to Fleur and kissed her on the cheek. "Congratulations. Are you alright?" He meant her herself but also gestured to everyone in the room. It was a little crazy.

"I'm fine, a little tired." Fleur responded happily.

"Who's got my niece? I should have known," he said spying Hermione with the baby.

"Oh, Ron, she's just lovely," she said mesmerized by the bundle in her arms.

He looked over his niece, fingered her little hand which immediately wrapped her little fingers around his thumb. "That she is. You're not getting any ideas, right?" he looked at her alarmed. Hermione looked entirely too comfortable with a baby in her arms.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron! No! I'm good with practising right now," her eyebrows rising suggestively. "Lots of practice," she whispered.

"Oh, I'm all for that, Love!"

Shortly afterwards, the family went down to the Great Hall for lunch, leaving Bill and Fleur alone to enjoy their baby. Ron watched George, happy to see a smile on his face that reached his eyes. He was going to be alright. If he could be happy on a day like today, he would be fine indeed. George manoeuvred the family to sit next to the Johnson family on the long benches and struck up a conversation with Angelina.

Ron scanned the rest of the table. To his right, his parents were happily engaged in conversation with the Grangers, exchanging baby stories and taking delight in embarrassing Ron, he was sure. To his left, Harry and Ginny seemed to be in their own little world.

He felt a head descend on to his shoulder and hands wrap around his arm. His eyes followed the sensation and discovered a beautiful girl gazing happily at him. His heart soared.

"Where have you gone just now?" Hermione asked him, serenely.

He smiled at her, taking in a beauty that just kept accumulating as he fell more deeply in love with her. "Nowhere, everywhere. Just looking at the family, they are all going to be fine, I think. There couldn't have been better timing than to have a baby on this day."

"Yes, they will. How about you?"

He sat pensive a moment, looking directly into her eyes. He nodded slightly. "I'm okay too. And with you in my life, I feel a hundred times more than just okay. Life goes on.

"Yes, it does," she agreed searching his eyes and finding immediately the love in his heart so openly displayed there for her to see. He bent his head towards hers. She tilted hers up towards his and they met in the middle in a loving, understanding and future sharing soft kiss.

The broke apart, staring at each other, in their own world for a second when the moment was broken by a scone that had been tossed at Ron's head. Still staring at each other, they broke out laughing but refused to have their private world completely shattered for just a moment longer before proper retaliation against his sister was in order.

oOo The End oOo

oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO oOoOoOoOoOoO

A/N: Wow! Phew!

I started to feel like I could go on forever with little independent scenes. Hope you all liked it. Many, many thanks to KariAnn1222 for challenging me to write at this level. It was at once invigorating to stretch my creative wings and nerve wracking. But nothing worth doing comes easily. I think I fell in love with Ron and Hermione more as I really dug into their story "a la me."

Kingsley would have worked with all three prime ministers, I am assuming. Wasn't too keen on including the Muggle PMs but, they knew about the problems so I thought it would be fitting for Kingsley to put their minds at ease. Interesting to have a Skeeter fly on the wall to listen to their conversations during all this. I wonder if the Iron Lady would have been scared ****less of a parallel government in Britain.


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